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ghive · 4 years ago

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three chords ⋆ shawn mendes x reader

inspired by because i had you by shawn mendes

a/n: this is definitely not my first time writing for shawn, but it is my first time posting my work on this blog! initially, i wanted to write a few blurbs first, but this is my debut i guess! i planned this in may because i was planning on writing fics for every song on sm3, which obviously didn’t happen, but now it’s august and i’m finally done. yay for lily.

also i obviously don’t currently have a taglist but if you wanna be added you can send me an ask (or a request!) here

warnings: angst, swearing, anxiety attack

word count: 3.4k

playlist

the 1 ⋆ taylor swift

out of love ⋆ alessia cara

raindrops (an angel cried) ⋆ ariana grande

about you ⋆ fletcher

arms of a stranger ⋆ niall horan

under / over ⋆ gracie abrams

because i had you ⋆ shawn mendes

***

it’s late, but shawn’s not home. he’s been out all day at the studio; he’s been spending more time out writing and recording, so it’s not an unfamiliar situation. it’s empty, too; the air, your heart. you sit at the piano, the view of the toronto skyline almost invisible in your attempt to fill the growing void with song.

three chords, that’s all you’re playing. but you find a small comfort in the melody. it’s simple, unbothered by the tears welling in your eyes. it rings out in the room, like the buzz of the metal had as you dropped the promise ring into the dish that sat on shawn’s nightstand, just an hour earlier.

the door closes, keys jingle, footsteps sound throughout the condo. your fingers dance across the keys one more time, one last time. you’re soft, gentle, with your movements. three chords, two broken hearts, one more moment before it all breaks forever.

you turn around to look at him, hoping the darkness will conceal your glossy eyes. “hi,” you breathe out, pressure rising in your chest as you look over his shadowed face. those warm brown eyes, the scar on his cheek, the soft blush caused by the cool night air. he’s glowing, he always is, but his light is dimming. it hurts.

“it’s late, y/n. you didn’t have to wait for me,” he says, removing his jacket and hanging it up.

“i know, i wasn’t waiting. i mean, i was, but not for you,” you reply in a quiet voice, standing up from your seat at the piano.

“what were you waiting for?”

you ignore his question. “dinner’s on the counter for you to heat up. i would’ve put it in the fridge when i made it but i wasn’t sure when you’d get home.”

“i’m sorry i’m so late, baby. i just got caught up at the studio, and we were writing and lost track of time-” he rambles, explaining his absence.

“it’s okay shawn, really. go eat. i’ll be awake if you need anything,” you urge, a sad smile painted across your face. he walks to the kitchen as you head toward your bedroom. you grab your last-minute items, your purse, passport. most of your belongings are already in the car - you’re not surprised if shawn’s noticed that the condo’s just a bit more empty - but you can’t be bothered if he has.

you walk into the kitchen, bag in hand. he sits at the table, playing with his food as he fiddles with his phone. you study him for a moment, for the last time. “i, uh, i should go,” you stutter out from your place in the doorway.

he looks up with wide eyes. “where?”

“away.” you close your eyes, a tear slipping out. you feel like your world is crashing down around you, leaving you alone and exhausted.

“y/n,” he stands up, approaching you slowly. you feel like glass, even though he isn’t touching you. fragile, but sharp in the softest way only heartbreak can cause.

“you were right. the other day, on the phone with connor. you’re better off without me. i’m sorry for holding you back.” you brush your fingers across his cheeks. holding him gently, you press a kiss to his lips.

you rest your forehead against him, eyes closed, breathing synced. you step back towards the front door. “i love you,” you say, looking him dead in the eye. he’s still, silent, the situation only settling in once it’s too late. the door opens and closes, you’re gone.

“i love you, too.”

the walk to the underground parking area seems to last forever as you try not to let the tears spill from your eyes. as soon as you sit down in your car, though, a sob cuts through the cool night air.

you cover your face with your hands, salty tears rushing down your cheek and into your shaking palms. you hide away in that position, not sure from whom - maybe yourself, for a few minutes, before sitting up to lean your head back against the seat.

“maybe he’ll finally be happy,” you whisper into the darkness.

he only wishes you were right.

***

that was five months ago, and shawn’s reality is just settling in. sure, you’ve rushed to move on, forget him, but you look happy. you are happy, and you’re sure shawn is too. it’s what he wanted, after all, how could he not be?

he’s not sure how he isn’t, either. but every time he hears your name, or sees your face on a mutual friend’s social media, it gets a little harder. those five months ago, that phone call with connor, the consequences, everything’s still so clear in his mind. it burns more than his tongue when he sips his coffee too soon or touches the flame as he lights candles around the condo. it burns more than anything, and as more time passes, he just wishes he had you to soothe the pain.

his album just came out, and while you haven’t listened to it, your friends have. you don’t mind the sound of his voice, or his name. you try not to dwell on him too much, and that’s easier said than done, but you broke up for him. so, you’re trying to move on for yourself. not to mention the fact that your boyfriend would riot if you even mentioned your ex’s name, and you’re not ready to fight with him, too.

macy’s playlist is on shuffle as the two of you drive through the southern ontario countryside. it’s a calm, safe space, hardly a care in the world as you laugh at your best friend from the passenger seat. that is, until a certain voice sounds from the speakers, his voice.

“what song is this?” you ask, the first few lyrics swirling in your brain.

“because i had you, it’s one of shawn’s new songs so if you want to skip it you can.” macy smiles apologetically, not wanting to upset you.

“no, no it’s okay.”

you just listen. to the lyrics, to the melody, there's something so familiar about it. the song, it’s so obvious, is about you, about that night five months ago. the time it’s taken for you to let go, to finally find a bit of peace.

it’s all fine, maybe you felt yourself tear up just a bit, until you hear those three chords. the three chords that had echoed in the void of your heart for weeks after you left. you weren’t upset with him for using the melody, it was so simple, he probably didn’t even remember it was yours. but the song, the story, your story, you just can’t help but wonder.

***

he remembers. he remembers all of it. the shakiness of your breath before you left, the melody you were playing to make it all go away. shawn knows he should’ve asked you if he could use it in his song, but he couldn’t face you. as much as he craves you, he just has to let go.

he hopes you don’t listen to the album, that you won’t notice that almost every song he’s written since that night and years before has been about you. that when you walked out that door, he’d both gained and lost the most beautiful muse. but if you do listen to it, you’ll know. you’ll know the story, and you’ll know he’s sorry.

you know, and it hurts so much more than you could’ve imagined. in the months since the breakup, his voice had never really bothered you, but when you could tell that you caused the pain he had written about, every single word hit you a little deeper. as soon as you walk into your empty apartment, you drop your bags and collapse on the sofa.

you feel cold, even as you snuggle deeper into the cushions and you feel yourself start to sweat. you swear you can hear someone moving around you, even though your roommate is out on a business trip all week. you’re dizzy, you’re sweating, your head’s pounding. your heart starts to race, your breathing quickens. “i can’t do this right now, i can’t fucking do this,” you choke out.

you rub your hands up and down your arms to ground yourself, shutting your eyes tightly. it’s not stopping you from working up into a panic, and it definitely doesn’t help when his words sound in your head. “you’re okay, baby. i’m here. it’s just me, it’s just shawn,” he’d say to comfort you. it did comfort you, or, it used to, but this time it just sent you farther away from your peace of mind.

“but i’m not okay, and you’re not here. it’s just me.”

***

you lie in bed awake, every little sound amplified in the darkness: the buzz from the air conditioning, the flapping of your curtains, the roar of the cars from the downtown street below. it’s like the sudden return of heartbreak broke the numbness you’ve been living in, bringing you back to the harsh reality of what you used to have.

you sit up in bed, then reach over drowsily to grab your phone. the screen lights up with a picture of you and some friends at the top of the empire state building a few years ago, you had been visiting shawn on tour and met up with them while you were there. you squint slightly as your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, 2:39 am reads the clock when you can see properly. you open your phone to the home screen before selecting the spotify app. you sigh, then type in his name. “this is probably a really bad idea.”

shawn mendes it reads, the cover of his self-titled album shining brightly into your bedroom. his face split into three, flowers growing in the empty spaces. it’s much prettier than his other two album covers, much more artistic. he’d never really had an eye for design, so you can’t imagine it had been his idea.

you press play, the first track starting to sound out loud before you pause it to grab your earbuds. once you’re settled, you start the song again, and start to hurt, again.

every song, you can tell when it was written. in my blood, you’ve heard that one before. shawn said it was one of the most vulnerable pieces he’s ever written.

nervous, it’s what he used to be like around you told through a story; not quite the same, but it’s yours. it’s the adrenaline of a young relationship, the excitement of someone new.

lost in japan, he’d written just for fun - you remember him coming home from the studio so tired but so excited, it was a new sound, and it was the start of a new era.

where were you in the morning?, it’s a situation you’re sure he’s encountered numerous times since the end of your relationship. you hadn’t heard even a bit of it before.

like to be you, it’s the exact dynamic you two always had when you were in a fight; it’s perfect. “julia michaels!” he had said that evening when he walked in the door. “i can’t wait for you to hear this song, honey.” if only you had known.

fallin’ all in you, has you in tears almost immediately: the first verse encompasses what you had, the second verse what could’ve been. you had plans, the two of you, to have a few kids, grow old together. “trapped up on a tightrope, now we’re here,” shawn sings.

“where did we get lost?” you think as the song finishes. you used to be so sure that you’d last, and he was too. you wish you knew when he fell out of love, when that promise of forever became empty.

particular taste, it’s new; you hadn’t heard it until now. the girl, whoever she is, you just wish that you could be her, even for only a moment. to have him completely mesmerized, to be that kid in love.

why, you’re not sure why it hurts you the way it does - it doesn’t even line up with your relationship, but the feeling it awakens is all too familiar. it’s like your heart had heard it in another world, waiting for the day it would run through your mind like it had your blood. the feeling confuses you, but as the song comes to a close, you close your eyes to cry a bit, too.

because i had you, there it is, that song. it’s so stupid how it breaks your heart - you thought you had gotten it all for yourself, now. yet, the song rips it to shreds, tearing away at the memories you’ve tried so desperately to let go of. he did this to himself, you think, but you wonder if you hadn’t gone, maybe neither of you would be so broken.

queen, it’s new, too. with every song you haven’t heard before, jealousy burns a little hotter. you’re glad this “queen” isn’t you, but you wish that the songs that were about you weren’t so sad.

youth, it’s cute. a nice refresher from the love songs, but nothing worth dwelling on. the message is powerful, but you’re too distracted by the love songs and heartbreak anthems to pay much attention.

mutual, you remember hearing it before. it was always fun for shawn to play with fiction, test his storytelling abilities, so when this song came around, he was more than excited to put it out. it’s a bit more basic lyrically, but the melodies and aesthetic appeal to your tired ears.

perfectly wrong, it seems innocent at first, but as the song goes on, the lyrics start to set in. it’s the story of what you and shawn were before you left - he’d probably written it around the time of the breakup. you just wish he had said it to your face.

when you’re ready, it’s probably the most sickeningly cute song you’ve ever heard. of course, it’s familiar, you’d heard him playing the melody, or something similar, just a couple of years ago. it’s clear that he’d written it early in your relationship or been inspired by that time, and it’s adorable, but it pains you to hear how hopeful you both were. you genuinely thought you would last, get married, grow old together, and it seems that shawn did, too.

you know your boyfriend won’t like that you’re listening to shawn’s music, he hates shawn more than you ever could. you can’t even say you hate him, after all, he’s the one who fell out of love. you hate that you had to leave, you hate that you’ll never look at a piano the same way again, you hate that you’ve become the muse of his heartbreak songs; but you could never hate shawn, not when you still love him more than anything.

you think maybe you’ll never get over him, they say you’ll always remember your first love. but for now you just hope that you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay like you thought he would be. it’s too late to go back for him, run back into the apartment and beg to fix your relationship. he was supposed to be your forever, but you know that dream’s long gone, you woke up to hellish flames and the screaming chaos of your mind and reality. shawn’s too far gone, and you need to stop reaching.

you’re happy with your current relationship, aesthetically, anyway. he’s there for you, and he’s supportive, and he’s lovely. his job is secure, you know that you can call and know that “soon” means a few hours, not weeks. it’s a storybook romance, he’s perfect for you, and you’re perfect for him. it should be working, and it might be if your heart wasn’t so broken, but you still feel the butterflies start to fade, and the sparks starting to cool down.

part of you, somewhere deep down, knows that you and shawn could’ve figured something out, that you should’ve; but he didn’t fight for you when you left, and you didn’t speak up when you had the chance. you were only 16 when you fell in love, just high school lovers who thought you could be more. you were young, and reckless, and hopeful. everyone warned you that it wouldn’t last, but you wouldn’t listen.

you would lie under the stars, shawn would tell you that you were meant to be forever, that those very stars had aligned perfectly for you to meet. one of those nights, you were 18, you sat in the back of his jeep. “hey babe?” shawn said, looking over at you fondly.

“what’s up?”

“i think we have one of the greatest loves of all time, truly. like nobody’s perfect, but we’re perfect for each other, y’know?”

“yeah, yeah i do know, and i agree.” you smiled, then kissed him softly. in the back of his jeep, under the stars, pretending like you’d go down in history. and for that moment in time, you thought that maybe you would.

***

your sister still asks if shawn will come back, she’s only a kid, she wouldn’t know better. but you know that he won’t, he can’t. he can write songs that’ll never see the light of day and text messages he’ll never send, but he can’t come back to you.

he can’t come back to your family, to those nights spent all together, teaching him how to make your favourite foods, dancing in the kitchen to songs he’d never heard. he can’t come back to sitting at the large, round table to eat the meal that he could never get quite right, but always tasted perfect because he had put so much love and care into trying.

you want to forget so desperately, you can’t take seeing his honey eyes staring back at you when you’re trying to fall asleep, the ache you feel when you sit down at a piano. he haunts you, living in the depths of your mind and the sharpness of your breath. you want to tell him to go away, leave you in peace. but he lingers, as does his power over you.

shawn’s trying to move on, too. but in the eyes of every one-night stand, every failed date, you’re right there. you’re not his, and he knows it all too well. he has to let go, he has to, but he doesn’t. he knows he broke your relationship, that he was just upset and confused and it ruined his life. he wants to text you, at least tell you he’s sorry.

but right now he’s staring up at the ceiling of his apartment, another woman beside him, curled up in his sheets. she’s beautiful, dark eyes to match the warm brown of her skin. she glows in the morning sunlight, long eyelashes fluttering slightly with every slow breath.

she’s kind, and warm, and loving. she’s supportive when shawn needs her, and she can take care of herself without his constant attention. from afar, she’s everything shawn needs and has ever needed, but to shawn, she’ll never be just right for him, because she’s not you.

he looks down at his shirtless chest, gently pulling the covers off his side of the bed. he pulls on his boxers, a pair of basketball shorts next. he looks back at her, watching as she opens her eyes slightly, a small yawn leaving her plump lips.

she reaches over to the other side of the bed, but when she feels the empty space, she fully opens her eyes. shawn’s standing in the doorway of the bedroom, now fully-clothed, but exhausted.

“you good?” she asks, bringing the sheets up with her to cover her bare chest as she sits up against the headboard.

“i’m so sorry,” shawn chokes out. “i just can’t love you the way you want me to. i want to but i can’t-“ he shuts his eyes tightly, “-i can’t.”

“it’s her, isn’t it?”

“yeah, yeah it is.”

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day-writingdaydreams · 4 years ago

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You Will Be Found - Chapt. 1 Anybody Have A Map?

A big Thank You to @khanofallorcs for being a wonderful Beta, and to @noirequin for creating the Spin the Record Challenge

Can also be read on AO3

🎵“And the scary truth is I’m flying blind, and I’m making this up as I go!”🎵

“Marinette, are you okay?”

Marinette turned slightly from her position, leaning on the railing of her balcony, looking out at the world to see the little red and black spotted being who had asked her the question.

“Yeah, Tikki,” she said in a quiet, almost sad voice. “I just… woke up an hour ago and couldn’t fall back asleep. So I decided to come up here to do some thinking.”

Tikki flew over to her chosen, a concerned look crossing her tiny little face as she faced her. “What seems to be troubling you?”

The dark-haired girl blew out a raspberry, ruffling her fringe. “The question should be what isn’t troubling me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” she trailed off, the beginnings of being overwhelmed evident on her face

“Can we try to have an optimistic outlook?” The Kwami of Creation interrupted her holder, knocking her out of the downward spiral for the moment. “Can we buck up just enough to see the world won't fall apart? Maybe this day we decide we’re not giving up before we’ve tried? Today, let's make a new start.” Tikki said as she gave Marinette’s cheek a nuzzle.

A sudden noise interrupted them, making the two glance in the direction from whence it came. Noticing it was her phone with a notification, the designer picked it up to see that Alya had texted her.

“I wonder what Alya wants this early,” Marinette said with a sidelong glance to her Kwami. Tikki gave her a shrug, just as confused as the girl sitting beside her.

Ladyblogger: hey gurl wat up?

R u excited about 2day’s project?

MDCDesigns: Yas!

I can’t wait 2 c who I’m partnered with!

Ladyblogger: Whoa!

Ur awake!

Wait, y r u awake?

MDCDesigns: Couldn’t sleep.

Ladyblogger: That sux

So…

Who do u think ur partner is gonna b?

MDCDesigns: idk

But I hope its not Chloe

Or Lila

Ladyblogger: y not Lila?

MDCDesigns: sorry Als,

No offense

but...

I don’t trust her on a project this big

Ladyblogger: gurl.

I don’t know what ur issue is wit Lila

but u need to stop being jelly of her

“How did this get turned into me being jealous of her?” Marinette asked out loud, turning to face the little red embodiment of Creation with wide eyes.

Turning back to her text conversation, the dark-haired girl furrowed her brows as she tried to get her point across to her supposed “best friend”.

“Another stellar conversation for the scrapbook,” the dark haired girl quoted with a sigh as she began typing again.

MDCDesigns: I am NOT jealous of her, Als!

I just don’t trust her.

Ladyblogger: so you say gurl

I’ll see u in class

“Another stumble as I’m reaching for the right thing to say,” she muttered quietly with a shake of her head, dismayed at the direction the conversation had taken. “I’m kinda coming up empty, can't find my way to you...”

MDCDesigns: yeah...see u

With a sigh, Marinette exited the text messaging program, checked the time, and slipped her phone into her handbag. It was still pretty early for her to head to school, but she figured that there was a first time for everything.

“It's a ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ kind of day, isn’t it, Marinette,” Tikki commented as she phased into the bag, giving her holder a sympathetic look as she did.

“Oh, Tikki,” the designer said with a humorless chuckle, pinching the bridge of her nose as she headed towards her trap door. “It most certainly is!”

Her parents were surprised to see their perpetually late daughter up and about so early.

”Marinette,” her mom called out before the girl could make her escape. ”We’re going to need you to help out after school today. A big order came in that your father and I need your help to take care of for tonight.”

The dark-haired girl stifled a grimace. She normally didn't mind helping out in the bakery, but today wasn't exactly a normal day.

”I would, Maman, but I'm being assigned a big group project at school today, and I'm not sure when the due date is yet,” Marinette said tactfully.

”I know that your schoolwork comes first, dear,” Sabine countered gracefully as her husband lumbered over to join the pair. ”However, we really could use your help. It would only be for about an hour, give or take.”

It was the give or take that worried her.

Resigned to her fate, Marinette bowed her head dejectedly and mumbled, ”Yes, Maman.”

”Thank you. You're a good girl, Marinette, ” said her father, patting her on the back before heading back to the ovens.

Grabbing a croissant and a to-go cup of coffee, Marinette left her parents with a kiss to their cheeks and a wave before starting her daily walk to school.

As she started up the stairs at the school’s entrance, she was met with the one person who would sour her day.

Lila.

“Well, if it isn’t Mari-brat,” the Italian vixen sneered.

“What do you want, Lie-la?” Marinette asked as she continued up the front steps, keeping her eyes to the front.

“What I want is for you to go down in flames,” the brunette said in a sing-song voice as she walked beside the secret heroine. “Are you ready to give up yet?”

At the top of the stairs, the designer spun to face her nemesis, blue eyes flashing like lightning. “Let me tell you something,” she growled. “I do not make deals with liars, and I never give up easily.”

“Oh,” the fake fox said coyly, “but you will. I’ve already won, you know. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

With a flick of her brown locks, Lila sauntered away, ready to claim her next victim.

Marinette glared after her, wishing with all of her might that the bitch would finally get caught up in her web of lies. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Another masterful attempt ends with disaster,” she muttered, bringing a hand to her face to give it a slight rub. “Pour another cup of coffee and watch it all crash and burn,” she continued as she headed to the locker room, ready to just get the day over with.

Opening the door and finding the room empty, the designer kept singing under her breath as she reached her locker and gathered her belongings for the day. “It’s a puzzle, it's a maze. I tried to steer through it a million ways, but each day’s another wrong turn,” she took another deep breath as she closed the locker door. The secret heroine felt her Kwami pat her through her purse on her hip in reassurance.

“Does anybody have a map, anybody maybe happen to know how the hell to do this? I don’t know if you can tell, but this is me just pretending to know,” Marinette sang slightly louder, looking around as she left the locker room and crossed the courtyard, confident now that no one was paying attention to her. “So where’s the map? I need a clue, ‘cause the scary truth is I’m flying blind… I’m flying blind... I’m flying blind, and I’m making this up as I go...”

Reaching her classroom, Marinette discovered it to be empty. 'Just as well,' she thought, setting her bags down and pulling out her tablet, sketchbook, phone, and earbuds. ‘It's bound to be a long day.'

Feeling inspired, she sat down and opened up her sketchbook to an empty page. She then pulled up the ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ soundtrack on her phone, plugged in her earbuds, and set to work.

Are you interested in reading and writing fanfiction, making fanart or cosplaying/roleplaying for Miraculous? Then the Miraculous Fanworks Discord Server is the place for you! Come and join over 1000 other fans as we share, discuss, and have a general good time bonding over the Fandom we all love!

@miraculousfanworks

#you will be found #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #Val tries to write #write val write #spin the record challenge #MLFanworks

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kileyrose-2003 · 5 years ago

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Rose the Hat x Fem! Hurt Reader

A/N: Hello lovelies! This request was made by @mewbleu I hope you enjoy it. If you want a part 2 lemme know. I have another request coming up soon next week.

Warnings: The usual except with this one there is a age gap between Rose and the Reader but it is a 100% legal and past age of consent, age gap.

SLAM! You fell to the ground as one of the jocks at your high school pushed you to the ground. Most people would panic on being so unceremoniously thrown but after years of this occuring you simply learned to lay down and take it.

You were always told by your mother from the time you were little that you were special. When the words were uttered to you by her they were endearing and doting but by others, not so much.

"You're such a freak, Y/n! We all know there's something wrong with you!" You winced as a foot connected to your side. "Why can't you just fess up and tell us what it is?"

You couldn't. They'd think you were crazy and you would be outcasted even more. "I can't." The sound of hands smacking against flesh radiated down the halls.

'Damn my birthday being one day over the cut off. I'm 19. I should be able to get out of here," You thought to yourself, trying to block out the pain.

His hand connected with the collar of your shirt and your head hung limply in the air. "Listen here you little bitch! I'm prepared to do whatever means necessary to get the answer out of you. Even that means I have to concuss you: Now confess."

He raised a fist and you shook your head. "No! No! Please! I'll tell you! I'll tell you!" You begged. "That's a good girl." He slowly began to lower you back down to the ground. 'Good. He's buying it.'

"Tell me what it is that you do that makes you so special?" Fear radiated through your eyes. You had to escape. "I can't tell you out loud. You have to come closer." He rolled his eyes and moved his face closer to yours. "There."

"Closer." Your bodies were nearly inches apart from each other. "I'm listening." You leaned your head to close his as if you were about to whisper in his ear and kicked him in the groin.

You expected the jerk to fall to the floor but he was strong. Anger flowed through his energy and all you could see was red in his eyes. "You little whore!" His fist connected with your face and the entire world around you spun.

"Oww! Oww! Oww!" You screamed and knocked him over using your shine as you cradled your broken nose. "What the hell is going on?" You could hear one of the teachers yelling down the hall.

"She-she-" The bully looked at you with terror in his eyes. You didn't have to be in his mind to know that he was trying to figure out how it was that you knocked him over without even touching him, let alone what he was going to tell this teacher because you didn't have to be shiny to know that there was no way the teacher was going to believe him.

"T-The freak started it! She looked at me funny!.."

"So you hit her?!" Teachers began to crowd around you and you felt people shaking your shoulders. "Y/n! Are you okay?" Despite the pain you were in you could tell even beaten and defenseless, they were scared of you.

"I-i-" Your head felt heavy and you had a moment to register you must of gotten a concussion as faces and voices around you began to fade in and out.

You could remember being lifted into the ambulance and having pills shoved down your throat and bandages being pressed against your nose but other than that everything was completely a blur.

One of the teachers called your mom and you could of swore you vaguely hear her saying something to your mom about how you were "strange" but you thought nothing of it.

They all thought you were strange besides your mom. She was the only one who really liked you. What her response was, you couldn't remember but before you even had enough time to register or even think about how long you were there you found yourself at home. How you got there, you didn't know but you were happy to be there. It was the one place you didn't feel like as much of a freak.

"You okay?" Your mom a ran hand through your hair and you sniffled, trying to get comfortable on the sofa. "Yeah..Just really sore." Your mom nodded solemnly and held your hand. "Can't say I'm surprised you took quite the blow."

"I didn't start it mama. I swear." You felt the tears brimming in your eyes and she wiped them away. "I know. Everyone knows." You nodded even though it hurt. "Good. They are all such jerks."

She hummed and there was a brief moment of silence following it. "What did he say to you?" You cocked your head. "What do you mean?"

"I know you pushed that boy, Y/n." The answer was met with silence and she sighed. "They're jealous, you know?" You hadn't heard her speak to you in that tone in so long.

"No, they're not."

"Yes, they are."

"No, they're not. They're all afraid of me. It's like they look inside me even though I've tried to be like them and they see what lays beneath the surface and it scares them. I'm not normal, mom. I'm a freak."

"No, you're not." She insisted. "Yes, I am. Mom, look at me. Do you know any other person who can do the things I do?"

"No but it makes you special. You have a gift, a beautiful one. You can push things, make them move with your mom. Stop people from doing things! No one can do that besides you. What makes you different makes you beautiful and if other people can't see that, they can go fuck themselves."

You sniffled and gave a hint of a smile. "I don't ever want to hear you say that about yourself again because you are so special and someday I'm sure you'll find someone just as special as you and they'll appreciate you."

"If you say so." Your mom placed a kiss on your forehead. "It's almost 4. I've got to get going. Dinner is in fridge and if you need anything just give me a call. Got it?"

"Got it." Your mom smiled sadly and grabbed her purse. "Hang in there, sweetie. It'll just get better from here." You refused to acknowledge her and she walked out the door.

You threw a blanket over yourself a little after she left and took it upon yourself to try and sleep off all the painkillers you were on. When you woke up the clock on the stove read 8:00 PM and your mouth was dry. You stood up lazily and walked over to the fridge, searching it for something with flavor besides bottled water but found nothing.

"Local coffee shop is open. I could always go there. It's only a block away." You grabbed your purse and put your favorite hoodie on before showing your earbuds in.

You stepped outside and breathed in the cold air as you looked up at the sky. There were no stars shining down on you. Just darkness. You felt alone and cold. "There has to be more people out there like me. I know there has to be."

You could see your neighbors looking at you from the corners of your eyes and waved but they shut the curtains in your face. You learned to try and not be offended by it along time ago but you couldn't help but feel that stabbing sadness and longing for love.

You hated it here. You hated everyone in that dumb town. You stepped off your porch and began the walk down the streets. You could lights burning in the night from the distant shops down the road but you paid them no mind. The only thing that you could focus on was that awful thudding in your head.

As your hand connected with doorknob of the cafe, the door swung open and your purse spilled all over. "Well, hi there!" You heard a woman laugh. You immediately picked your things up off the ground. "I am so sorry. I should of watched where I was going."

"No, no. I bumped into you first. Here, let me help you." She knelt down to your level and handed you your wallet. "Besides, it looks like you have a rough day." You wouldn't of laughed if you thought she was being condescending but there was something about this person that made you feel like she was safe.

You let out a chuckle and looked up. "You have no idea." You thought the woman standing infront of you easily had to of been one of the prettiest people you've ever seen.

"Yeah well, people fear what they don't understand. Her grey eyes interlocked with yours and you felt your heart sink into your stomach. "You can-"

(Oh yes.)

Your cheeks went red and you averted eye contact with her. "No, no, no. No shame. It's beautiful and you're beautiful." A smile graced your face and Rose grinned. She had a feeling she was going to like you. "How about we talk about this in a more private setting? No judgment. No nothing."

Something deep down told you not to trust this woman but she was special, like you. She had to be a good person. You knew she was. "Yes," You mumbled softly. "Good. That's what I thought."

Before you even knew it you and the hat woman were sitting together in the living room, her hands intertwined with yours.

"There are two types of people in this world. The rubes and then the steamy ones and you my dear are quite steamy." You furrowed your brows. "Steamy?"

"Special. It's what you have up here." She gently caressed your temples and you winced. "So what exactly happened to you today that you have all this on." She gestured to the bandage over your nose. You refused to say and she ran a hand through your hair.

"You know people are afraid of what they don't understand, right? So much pain and terror your whole life, huh?" You bit down on your lip. "I-" You burst into tears and started sobbing.

"Shh..no tears. No pain." She hummed softly in your ear and hugged you. It felt so weird to be hugging this stranger but it also felt so right. "Show me how special you are."

"W-what?" You hicupped. "Show me how special you are." She repeated. You hesitated and then flipped over the coffee table with your shine.

Rose grinned and rubbed your back. "Oh yes. So so special..Y/n, I want to help you." You wiped your tears away. "You do?"

"I do. Don't you want a family? To be loved?" You froze. "How did you-"

"Oh sweetie, I know everything about you and I can help you. Just give in and join me. I'll bring you home."

'I have to be dreaming. This is all so crazy,' You thought. "Oh it's not crazy. It's real. You want to come with me, don't you?"

"I-i do." You felt your body growing limp in Rose's arm. "Sleep well."

Instead of the loud slam of your body hitting the floor you were awoken by the loud shutting of a door. "Well hi there, sleepyhead!"

You groggily sat up in bed and looked all around. You felt like you were back at a more tasteful version of Woodstock.

"W-where am I?" You stuttered, lazily sitting up and leaning back on your hands. "Home, like I promised." You coughed and your mouth felt like sandpaper. "What did you do to me?"

"Nothing you have to worry about." Rose booped your nose and eyed your body carefully. "Tell me, how old are you darling?"

"19," You hummed softly. "19! What an age. I have a girl in the family around your age. Both such beautiful things with so much potential."

"Oh, I'm not pretty," You blushed. "Oh yes you are! I'll just have to show you eventually." She gave an impish grin. "Anyways, I'm going to offer you a deal that I haven't made anyone in 9 years."

"Which is?" You asked. "Stay with me and you'll have a family who will nuture you and love you all the more for you and not have to worry about a thing for the rest of your life. 10 years from now you're still 19. 100 if you have good genetics, maybe 20. Stay young, eat well, live long."

"With no strings attached?" You asked. "None what so over." You smiled despite the terror you felt. "Okay. I'll do it."

"Excellent." You went to sit up out of bed but Rose pushed you back against the mattress. Her long and attractive body leaning over top yours. "Oh no. You're not going anywhere yet. I still have to show you how special and pretty you are.."

#true knot #fanfic #stephen king #imagine #rose the hat #doctor sleep #dr sleep #the shining #x reader #x fem reader #x female reader

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paellaplease · 5 years ago

Text

Firebird | Chap.4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 4: Seeker

Look for the truth where the past has buried it.

After exchanging a few more words with Kamori about her extended stay, the meeting concluded. Maiya bowed politely, bidding the two Ritos goodbye. Before she left, Kamori stopped her at the door, pressing an envelope to her hand. “Follow the address in this letter, my dear. The innkeeper there will take care of the rest. Winds be fair to you, hoo.”

Maiya returned his smile, touched at his grandfatherly kindness. Her eyes briefly lingered on Revali's burnt feather before she turned away, the guilt she felt at indirectly hurting him still caught in her throat.

She avoided Talako’s wary gaze as she stepped out of the hut, not wasting any time in making a hasty exit. One foot after another, careful not to trip, she descended the many village stairs.

The young Enchanter released the breath she was holding as she cleared two levels. “So that happened,” She said aloud. The anxiety was creeping back in. Her heart felt like a butcher’s mallet. Thump! Thump! Thump! If her chest was a piece of meat, it would be well tenderised by now.

First order of business. She needed paper and a messenger pigeon-person-thing...Whatever they used in this village. Chief Kamori already assured her that a missive would be sent to her mentor’s private letter box first thing tomorrow morning explaining the whole situation. However, she knew that she needed to write to her mentor separately. Relaying whatever she can in great detail was of utmost importance if she wanted even a smidgen of a chance of surviving the Sheikah’s ire.

Calm...calm. I am calm.

Teacher was going to kill her!

Round and down she went, lost in her thoughts but aware enough to dodge around a yellow Rito child that was playing tag along the railing. Opening the note, she followed the address written at the top in Kamori’s cursive. That’s a lot of levels down . Nodding to herself, she increased her walking speed, making her way towards her accomodations for the next few weeks.

The inn was located only a floor above the village’s main entrance, making it one of the first things travellers would see when they arrived. Like most structures situated around Valoo’s Spire, a flat platform jutted out from its doors, connecting the main arterial staircase to the wooden, circular, double-story building that was Rito Village’s one and only inn.

The building exterior was painted a deep red, with white curtains billowing from its many open windows. Planter boxes were hung up along the railings of the second floor, pink daphnes and other winter blooms peeking from their containers.

Another staircase, though this time shorter and much more narrow with steps worn from years of use, ran flush along the inn’s side. Maiya theorised that it supposedly gave customers a means of accessing their rooms without having to pass through the reception area. That said, she was unpleasantly surprised to find that whilst most rooms were situated at the building’s second floor, the inn still offered beds on the first. In its lobby.

...

What?

Eyebrow raised at the arrangement, Maiya tiptoed past sleeping travellers and made her way to the front desk. Tourist season must be in full swing, with most of the beds filled and a small sign above the front desk announcing a limited vacancy. A customer’s snores echoed from the corner.

This is, um, unpleasant. She thought. But arguably not as bad as when Uncle Rohan had to crash at the forge after he and Teacher had too much to drink. Maiya grimaced at the memory. That Goron blacksmith’s snores were loud enough to wake Death Mountain...but I still wouldn’t complain if this place offers earbuds.

A burgundy Rito with a short side braid and golden hooped earrings smiled sunnily as she approached. “Welcome to Swallow’s Roost,” she whispered.

Maiya mumbled a shy ‘hello’ back. She set her pack down and fished out her identification papers and coin purse. A leaf flew out of her open wallet. Oh damn. It was then that the Hylian realised, with much embarrassment, just how filthy she was from weeks of travel. The quick wash at the stables that morning took care of most of the grime, but her travel pack was still covered in mud and leaves. From the moment she entered the inn, she was already tracking dirt on the massive blue circular rug that covered most of the wooden flooring.

I am the queen of good first impressions.

“I would like to book one of your beds until the Winter Solstice, please.” Maiya said, glancing at an open bed warily, noting the thin divider between it and the traveller sleeping a few steps away.

“Not a problem, but you won’t be placed in any of the ones down here, that is, unless you really want to,” The innkeeper said. She giggled at Maiya’s confused expression. “My apologies, let me clarify. These beds are reserved for single day travellers.”

From out of nowhere, the innkeeper pulled out a graph. It was framed, hitting the table with a dull thud . She grabbed a piece of charcoal to the side and pointed to a random line. “See here?” Maiya nodded, not sure what she was seeing. “We noticed that many visitors of our village have been on the road for quite a while and simply needed a place to rest for a few hours. By implementing this we’ve Roost Boosted our business by 15%!” The Rito grinned proudly. “It’s our solution for the short-stay traveller without breaking the bank!”

Not one to be rude, Maiya replied. “That makes sense.” So I’m not sleeping in the lobby? Nice.

The innkeeper didn’t even try to hold back an amused laugh at Maiya’s expression. “Ha! Relieved now, aren’t you? You’re adorable. My name is Cheska by the way, owner of this lovely establishment. I’m guessing you’re also on the search for a warm bath and a good meal?”

“And the softest bed you got,” Maiya said, recalling the difficult evening she had the night before.

“You’re at the right place, have you heard of our world famous Rito down-beds? Of course you have. Let’s sort you out!”

The room was sparsely decorated in a cosy sort of way. The place was free of knick-knacks or paintings, and it soon became obvious that everything there was there for a purpose.

On the right was a double bed and a wooden chest sitting at its foot- open, unlocked and empty. Opposite this, to the far left of the room, was a small fireplace. Stocked with logs, it was ready to be lit to ward against the later evening chill.

Maiya pulled the cloth door further, stepping over the threshold. On the wall directly across from her was a window. The surrounding waters of Lake Totori and the leafy green Tabantha forests were visible from within its four corners. To Maiya's relief a writing desk was positioned beneath it, paper, inkwell and quill already supplied. Her mentor wouldn't have to wait too long for a response.

The place felt untouched, as if frozen in time since the last tenant vacated. She liked it. It smelt like honey and sage.

“Forgive us for the dust,” she heard Cheska say. The Rito swiped a few feathers on the top of the window sill, frowning at the dirt that came off it. “It has been a while since anyone’s set foot into this room. Would have offered one of our vacant newer ones too, but Chief Kamori suggested in the note that you could stay here.”

“Where’s the original owner?” Maiya asked.

“They left many years ago, when I was just a chick. Mama was the innkeeper at that time as I was still too young to learn the ropes.” Cheska tilted her head, earrings glinting. “I can’t really remember their face, but my ma described them as always a bit intense. 'Too many eggs in one basket makes a person go crazy, Ches!’ She would say. Whatever that means.” The Rito wiped her wing on her apron. “Wonder if that’s why they left, huh?”

Maiya racked her brain for something to say, “Uh…”

“Anywho! Communal baths are a Spire floor up. Complimentary soap from the front desk will be handed out if you remember to cheer 'Swallows Roost Boost!' Oh! And clap twice. Don't forget that. That's very important."

She felt a headache creeping up. "Is it really?"

"Nope." Cheska grinned. "But it’d still be a good idea to have a wash before you knock-out for the day. Sorry to say it, hylianlla , but you stink!"

The young Enchanter worked quickly to acclimate herself to her new surroundings. Whilst this was the first time she’d travelled so far outside Akkala, she knew it would be smart to be curious and observant. Everyone had their patterns, and the Ritos were no exception to this. Much like it did with enchanting, figuring out how things worked early around these parts was going to do her a lot of good in the long run. And not making a fool of herself by missing simple social cues was always a plus.

Day one was when Maiya realised that Rito Village rose before the sun. The smell of freshly baked bread and the sounds of haggling at the markets began as early as the crack of dawn. Sitting on the railing just outside her room and picking apart her mandarin, she also found that some fruits tasted better here.

She swung her feet. The cool mountain breeze and view were enough to brave the drop, and she surprisingly found herself at relative peace as she finished her meagre breakfast. It was a big change from earlier that morning.

Maiya had awoken before first light, bleary eyed from another nightmare she couldn’t quite remember. Walking outside to catch her breath, she spotted a squadron of warrior Ritos flying overhead in the early twilight. She’d nearly called out and waved to them, doubtful that they would hear her anyway, but thought better of it when she caught the familiar sight of blue amongst their ranks.

The Hylian exhaled, tilting her face to the warming sunlight. Watching the sky now, about three hours afterwards, she saw a dull orange Rito depart from one of the upper floors, flying in the same direction towards the mountains. She wondered if they were a warrior too.

She bit into her fruit, chewing somberly. A warrior. She was supposed to find a worthy warrior. But how could she now when the dagger rejects one of the best fighters this village could offer?

Perhaps I have to look harder.

Maiya closed her eyes, the rune on her hand aching. "Where do I even start?"

On the list of tasks to complete whilst she was here, another began to weigh heavily on her mind. She remembered that Teacher said this was her opportunity to gather more information for her studies. Where books on Ancient Weaponry were limited, tomes on Enchanting were extremely rare. Most were burned, buried or lost to time when the Sheikah were subdued 10,000 years ago.

Enduring information survived in bits and pieces, some being handed down by word-of-mouth through stories and secrets. Whilst this worked to protect knowledge, it made finding consistent techniques difficult. And with all known Enchanters aside from her and Teacher either lost, dead, or in hiding, finding instruction beyond her mentor’s library and her mentor herself felt almost impossible.

Feeling hopeless, Maiya stared at the new glove which covered her left hand, lifting it so that the eye-shaped scar underneath would be at level with her own. The rune was quieter today. She turned her hand, examining the neat seams at its sides and the small tufts of feathers which cushioned her palm. The fit was perfect. She wondered how much study and practice it would take to make something this good.

A memory of one of her Teacher’s lectures came to mind.

“Most Enchanters encountered in legend are Sheikah, however this does not mean that they are the only beings with an aptitude to enchant. ” Her mentor’s voice echoed in her head. She could visualise the moment easily, see the tall woman in a dark hood pace the room, her long pendant of a weeping eye lightly swinging.

“In fact, were it not for the Goron People in Eldin and the teachings they kept of their late-Enchanters, I would have never fully mastered the flame for my first weapon. Hence, I would have never become Enchanter were it not for me seeking their guidance. We are nothing without the teachings of others.”

“I am nothing without the teachings of others.” Maiya repeated, words eaten up by the cloudless sky.

All of Teacher’s old books said that the Hebra Highlands were the original birthplace of ice enchantments. Rito Village, with its close proximity and history of keeping physical records, was her best bet in finding actual information regarding Ice Enchanting or even runes if she were lucky. She needed something , whether it be a book or an old myth. Anything to lead her in the right direction for her research. And she had no idea where to start.

Questions, questions…

“Why so glum, hylianlla? ”

“Shit!” Maiya jumped, dropping her fruit, she tipped forward, body seconds from falling into the waters below.

“Woops! Hold on there.” A wing reached to grab the collar of her jacket, pulling her backwards.

The young woman fell onto the wooden decking behind her. She groaned, rubbing her back as she rolled and stood up gingerly. Familiar burgundy feathers, braids, and now silver triangular earrings met her gaze. “Good morning Cheska, nice earrings. Please don’t do that again.”

The Rito looked slightly apologetic, tossing her mop’s handle from one wing to another. “I’m sorry for that, you see I was just cleaning out the room next door- terrible stuff really, the man left a smell that you can’t just scrub out- when I saw you sitting here all sad looking and lonesome.” She looked a bit bashful. “I was going to leave you to your thoughts, but then you said something ominous out loud and my curiosity got the best of me.”

Note to self, don’t repeat Teacher’s top ten quotes in public.

Cheska continued, “Were you thinking hard? I don’t think you blinked once. You looked like you were trying to set something on fire with your eyes.”

Maiya laughed dryly. “Would you believe me if I said you were not the first one to tell me this?”

The Rito’s curious teal eyes seemed to gleam even brighter. Those apparently were the wrong words to say if she wanted the feathered woman to leave. If she didn’t before, Maiya well and truly had Cheska’s attention now.

The innkeeper placed the mop she was holding to the side, and with a flap of her wings was over the railing and seated next to Maiya as if she’d been there the whole time. “Alright! What ails you on this fine morning, little traveller?”

Maiya sighed. Might as well . “Is there a place here that stores information?”

“Depends,” Cheska said, holding up three feathers, lowering them with each suggestion as she ticked off a mental checklist. “Fifth floor we have a library for general stuff. Cookbooks, numeracy and literacy texts, some basic readings on science. The elders use it as a resource in the syllabus for the young’uns.”

“If you want some political and business advice, or a long winded talk on our current economics, then ask Chief Kamori how his day is going. Don’t get me wrong, I love our fearless leader, but he needs to get out more.”

“How about old information? Like old history?” Maiya tried.

“Old history, huh?” Cheska went quiet for a moment, looking at the final feather she held up. “Then you should definitely see Honoka in the Archives. She knows heaps about old teachings. More than anyone else in our little llaqta. Got a whole collection on dead languages and legends not even Old Man Yieni would tell- not that he does much storytelling anymore but I digress!”

Sounds promising . Maiya smiled. “I think that’s it, Cheska.”

“Is it really? Oh, I’m happy to have helped. It’s the fourth level from the top by the way! Might be a difficult climb, for a Hylian I mean. A lot of stairs. Don’t get too winded on your way up. Take your time.” She pushed off the railing, flapping her wings and hovering in the air. “You don’t owe me anything by the way. Just maybe let me know if you find something interesting. Actually, definitely let me know if you find something interesting.”

“You’ll be one of the first,” Maiya said, pushing off from the railing she was leaning on. “Thank you, Cheska. For the help and the directions.”

“Not to worry, Miss Maiya!” She did a somersault in the air, and dipped down past her sight. A few seconds later she resurfaced, picking up her mop and buckets with her talons. “Oops forgot these! The things a girl would do to get some good gossip around here. Good luck, hylianlla! You’ll need it! ”

Maiya took Cheska’s advice, ascending the spire whilst taking time to enjoy the village with a more wakeful and less anxious mind than the one she had yesterday. A range of colourful shops and little wooden houses were found on every level. It was refreshing to see how open everything was. Doors were mostly long pieces of cloth, rolled up to air out the home and let the wind in. Children ran to and fro, some who were old enough to fly zipping around the clotheslines. There was so much laughter in the air. Their elders sat and gossiped on the front porch, a few leaning out their windows or resting in their rocking chairs.

It was loud, full of energy, and Maiya loved it.

There’s an antique store on this level. The pottery is so beautifully shaped! Are those little clay wings?

A jewellry shop. The fine details are so exquisite! I wonder how they got the metal to bend like that without snapping?

A tavern! I’ve never been to a tavern before!

Distracted by the sights, it took her an extra few minutes to reach her destination.

Meeting the Head-- and only-- Archivist of Rito Village, Master Honoka, was, well for lack of a better word, interesting. A security gate behind the main cloth door rattled and shook as the Rito Elder unlocked it, pulling it back in a single motion. She peered at Maiya through the thick glasses which rested at the top of her beak, cautiously taking in the appearance of the small human woman who awkwardly stood at her doorway. Even whilst leaning on an ornate silver cane, the Rito stood three heads taller, practically towering over her. “Unfortunately, we don’t take walk-ins,” the old woman said. Her voice was intelligent, educated, and extremely tired.

“I’m not here to sight-see,” Maiya said. “Are you...are you the Archivist?” She shuffled in place, willing herself not to stare at her shoes. “If so, nice to meet you. Do you have any texts on arcane weaponry? Something that mentions blue-energy, or ice magic?”

Master Honoka expression softened, but her grip on the gate did not waver. “I’m sorry, hylianlla , but the Archives do not welcome tourists anymore. If you wanted to know how to make ice arrows however, I suggest you see the bowyer a level down. Though don’t get his shop mixed up with the blacksmith’s, that bird is a gruff one. Now have a good day.” She shuffled back, pulling the gate to shut her out.

Her rune flashed. “Wait!” Maiya said, unsheathing the flame dagger. Its orange gleam was as bright as ever, catching the morning light. Her hands shook minutely as she presented it in front of her in a nervous hurry.

Perhaps shoving a knife with little explanation in front of an elderly lady was a bad idea, she thought. Honoka’s eyes widened, a small gasp escaping her beak. She gripped her cane tightly. Maiya’s gloved hand warmed. She panicked, wondering if it was going to hit her. However, as the Elder advanced, her eyes caught the light of the red flame, feeling the radiant heat which ran under the metal of the dagger. The rito stopped, eyes widening in recognition. “Enkantada,” Honoka whispered.

In an instant, the door was pushed back. Maiya jumped as a wing wrapped around her wrist, quickly pulling her into the hut.

Immediately, the familiar smell of dust and books filled her senses. Maiya blinked, looking up. All around her, covering the walls and reaching the ceiling, were shelves upon shelves of precious books.

The collection was massive .

Maiya gasped. A part of her, the giddy childlike excitement at discovering something new, jumped for joy. It’s like she was standing in the middle of a perfect storm. Some books were hardbound, the titles on many of their spines in languages she’d never heard of before. Others were nothing but just paper and twine, on the verge of falling apart and standing on their last legs. She saw books with paper backs, and books wrapped in animal skins. The top of her banada felt warm, with beams of white, dusty daylight shining from the oculus above her.

Someone cleared their throat. Maiya whirled around. The elderly rito stood only a few steps away, cane outstretched. The metal stick nudged at the arm which held the dagger, lifting it up higher to the dusty light that filtered in from the glass ceiling.

“Who are you?” Honoka said, cautious yet not unkind. She reached for a dial at the side of her glasses, turning it. The lenses on her spectacles moved and folded into a focal point, magnifying her vision. She leaned forward, examining the dagger with a critical eye. “An Enchanter? I can’t believe it. I thought there was only one of you left.”

Maiya’s shoulders sank, sinking the dagger back into its sheath. “Two now, actually. I was only given the title a few weeks ago. I’m sorry for the confusion.”

“It’s no trouble, dear,” Honoka said. “I apologise as well, we’ve had an issue the past few months with thieves. The Yiga Clan have been pretending to be travelling scholars looking for precious, old books in our collection. We’ve lost many in the past month and I didn’t want to take the risk.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“It is,” Honoka said, looking close to tears. She sniffed, squaring her shoulders. “Nevermind that. What brings you here, Young Enchanter?

“I’m learning how to enchant Ice Weapons. Someone told me that you’re a collector of old knowledge.”

“I’m a historian and archivist, enkantada. Not an antiquarian. However, yes, I believe I might have something along those lines. And who was this Rito that directed you here?”

“The innkeeper.”

Master Honoka sighed, taking her glasses off and rubbing her head. “Of course it was Cheska. That girl never has the sense to not stick her beak where it doesn’t belong, especially if she can get a story out of it.”

“Do you know her?”

The old rito hobbled to the middle of the room, cane glinting in the early afternoon light. “She’s my niece.” She tapped her cane to the ground, giving the floor two experimental wacks.

Maiya stood to the side, not quite sure what was going on anymore. “Uh...what are you doing?”

The Archivist raised her cane over the floor once again, stabbing its end into a barely noticeable hole in the planks. She twisted the cane and stepped back, lifting up a long piece of floorboard. It came away easily, nailed-in less tight in comparison to the others.

Underneath there seemed to be a deep gap in the floor, holding what looked like four mysterious rectangular stacks.

Maiya bent down to get a better look. The inside was dusty, probably from having not seen the light of day in several years. As she moved closer, she realised that the stacks she saw were actually books, all faded and leather bound.

“Many years ago,” Honoka said, looking down at the cobweb covered tomes. “I was asked to burn these. Me, being the stubborn woman I was back then, followed my heart and decided to hide them instead.”

“Why?”

“Knowledge is never supposed to be destroyed,” she said, looking at Maiya seriously. “We should not fear mistakes nor the things we don’t fully understand. If we did, then we would never learn from our shortcomings and continue making regretful decisions.” She turned away, walking towards a back room. “I will be in my study, the tomes are free for you to peruse. Let me know if you don’t understand anything, I have a few cipher guides you might find useful.”

“Thank you, oh wait!” Maiya couldn't help her curiosity. “Who asked you to burn them all those years ago?”

Honoka paused before she closed the door. Her back was turned, the intricate weaving and patterns of her multicoloured shawl contrasting with the pale peach-almost white of her feathers.

“It was the King of Hyrule, young Enchanter.”

#revali #botw #breath of the wild #revali x oc #loz botw #legend of zelda #botw fanfiction #revali botw #rito #rito botw #botw fic #fanfiction #writing #enemies to friends to lovers #paellaplease #firebird botw #maiya botw

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watchoutforthefanfics · 5 years ago

Note

For the fic request thing, could you write "one last backstab, just what I needed. Because one wasn't enough " with Royality? (I loved your angsty logince fic it was so good!!) -knight

Heyo, thank you, knight, for your request. I can’t say it’s angsty as that one shot butttt, it is pretty angsty when you get to the right part. Anyway, enjoy, hopefully. This ended up kinda long.

TW: Self deprecation, somebody getting outed, and really bad insecurities.

Roman was quiet in class, he was the kid who doodled all throughout the edges of his notes, pointless castles and princes that he dreamed would see him.

People didn't approach him, mostly because he was really kinda picky about who he chose to speak to and it might've seemed a little stuck-upish.

And he had been told that his golden skin and perfected hair had quite literally been intimidating to anyone who had decided to approach him.

It wasn't like he didn't want friends, it's just most people didn't take the time to ask. So, being the petty theater boy he was, he didn't talk to people if they were just talking to him for the kicks.

Until everyday in Geometry class, a cute boy named Patton started a conversation at his table… Where only he sat.

It started harmless, Patton asking if Roman had understood what the teacher had understood and Roman was nice enough to explain it (totally not related to how bright of a blue his eyes were, or the freckles scattered across his cute little cheeks).

With the quietest tone, he pointed out what the lesson had been and what he was supposed to be doing, and Patton didn't push him anymore that day; he just respected his silence.

It was a relatively new experience to Roman (Virgil, his old best friend had done the same, but he moved about 2 years ago), to have someone just sit with him and ask no questions.

Roman found himself trusting him quite fast, not really minding when he would ask him questions because Patton was probably the sweetest boy Roman had ever known.

A different day, when Roman had been a little more confident with himself, Patton decided to peer over his shoulder at one of his doodles.

It was small, a soft face with a crooked crown and cheesy grin that Roman had come to love when he drew it.

"That's-" Patton spoke softly, "-that's a really nice drawing. What's his name?"

Roman had frozen that day, he didn't think he needed a name, did he? He was a recurring prince, a style that Roman had liked and his hair was always curled, he deserved one at least.

Roman scribbled, staring down at the prince, "He… He doesn't have a name."

"Do you-" Patton hesitated, "Do you want to give him one?"

Roman pursed his lips, nodding silently as he tapped his pencil on the table.

Patton read him pretty quickly, "Ummm, what about Theodore? Prince Theodore?"

"Prince Theodore-" Roman grinned, "-the 3rd. It… it has a really nice ring to it."

Patton smiled, a brightness Roman had yet to get used to, "You think?"

"Yeah-" Roman confirmed, "Yeah, I like it."

Patton smiled, a big cheesy grin before grabbing a notebook paper and his pencil, "Is Prince Theodore into princes?"

Roman raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk finding a way onto his lips, "Is that a trick question?"

Patton's face fell for a second, Roman could see the endless thoughts flooding his face, so he stepped in.

"Of course, he is!"

With the same bright smile, Patton began sketching out another face; this one a bit softer with a genuine grin that crinkled at his eyes, and a round face.

"There! Uh, meet… Prince Xavier!" Patton shoved it forward with a sparkle in his eyes, "They look perfect together."

It was then that the two realized that the princes were drawn in their likeness, Theodore had the same jaw and Xavier had the same, happy eyes.

With a flush rising onto their faces, they both smiled lightly at their drawings as the chatter dissipated and they fell back into the silence of writing their notes.

Roman couldn't fail Geometry anyway.

After such an awkward sketch exchange, the silence had returned and if he was being completely honest, Roman was kind of devastated. But, he figured at that point, he was used to it.

And just as he lost hope, Patton started whispering the cheesiest puns to him when the teacher wasn't looking.

It was nice to hear things so light and bubbly, when his brain was absorbing so much math he could hardly take it.

However, that was not the peak of their budding friendship: no, no.

That was one day when Roman was walking home because his Mom's car was in the shop, and he was WAY better than a public bus.

And after he was sure he was clear, Roman began a full performance with his earbuds in, dancing up and down sidewalks and singing proudly along with all the vocals he could.

It wasn't unknown that Roman wanted to be a performer, he worked with the drama team, mostly in smaller roles because he wasn't satisfied with his voice yet.

He wanted to reach his full potential in his main roles, otherwise it seemed so… pointless, to him anyway.

But he really liked to truly envelope the role in every possible way, so he closed his eyes and began to bolt out the lyrics like he felt in his so-

HONK

Roman's eyes flew open and he tripped over himself, falling onto the ground with a stumble. Usually he was elegant okay, he almost got hit by a car, give him a break.

"Oh my god! Are you okay? I'm so sorr-" a familiar voice spout out before paused, like a realization passed over him, "Wait, Roman?"

He flew up, dusting off his jeans with a few motions, "Patton? What are you doing here?"

Patton put a hand on his hip, taking on a parental tone, "I almost hit you with my car! What are you doing here?"

"I-" Roman realized he'd been talking at full volume, but quickly dismissed it, "I don't have a ride right now, I was… walking home."

"With your eyes closed?" Patton giggled lightly, but there was a telling gleam in his eye that bled concern.

"I, uh-" Roman's hand went to his neck, slowly stepped backward towards his house, "I guess I got a little lost in the song. Listen, Patt. I'll pay more attention, I promise. But I gotta get h-"

"What if I drive you?" Patton interrupted, a little more excited than Roman thought he should be, but it was kinda cute.

Roman paused, a bit more pep in his step, "I wouldn't want to intru-"

Patton interrupted, "It wouldn't be a problem. I mean, if it bothers you… You can pay for some snacks, if you wanna get some that i-"

"I'd-" Roman smiled, a bright genuine smile, "I'd love to."

Patton smiled, "Great! Umm."

Roman grinned, his charming grin that some swore had a mischievous glint, bowing, "Your chariot awaits?"

Patton froze, raising an eyebrow in surprise but quickly adjusting, "Thank you, Prince."

Roman smiled even brighter, as his ears flushed just in the slightest, Patton was breaking down walls he'd forgotten he had put up in the first place.

When Patton dropped him off that evening, Roman spent a whole 3 hours ranting to his Mom about the cutest boy in the entire world with thin-rimmed glasses.

Who's to say Patton didn't do the same? (Except about the most charming boy that made his heart beat a little faster every time he laid eyes on him.)

Their friendship was quick and easy and just nice, something Roman could just sink into without thinking twice about it.

And one night, on a day Patton had went inside after driving him home, Patton brought up something from what felt like ages before.

"You know," Patton started, "-you have a really pretty voice. And they are looking to cast a lead in the new play! And-"

"Patton," Roman interrupted, concise and straightforward, "-I can't do that! My voice isn't ready. The whole school will implode at the mere existence of m-"

"I think-" Patton added, matter-of-factly, "-that you should showcase your talent to school. You wanna be an actor right? You could get a lot of scholarships, and you're good enough to succeed for a living."

Roman blinked, "You think so?"

"Of course," Patton said as genuinely as saying 'The sky is blue', "-you're Roman Elliott! You can do anything."

That was all it took for Roman to take the advice, just Patton supporting him was all he needed. So when he got the opportunity, he took an audition (not without Patton in the crowd of course).

He had come prepared and as Patton had expected nailed it, the drama teacher was so blown away that she offered him the part right off the bat.

Roman had never been more excited, his steps turned into skips and his heart was soaring and Patton was there every step of the way, from being his audience to helping him memorize his lines every night he could.

And each night the two were closer than they had been before, to the point that Roman had started shoving certain ideas in the back of his mind, because Patton was his friend.

He isn't think Patton wanted to be anything more, no matter what he felt.

◇ ◇ ◇

It was just after their performance, the applause still fresh within his mind and his heart soaring off the adrenaline.

But after, he only longed to see one person. To see if they had enjoyed his performance, because at this point, Patton meant a little too much for him to conceal.

Instead however, a boy stopped him in his tracks with dark, black hair, and auburn dusted eyes: he recognized him as Eric, maybe?

"Hey-" the boy spoke with a smooth tone, "-I'm Emmett, you did a great job up there! You've got a lotta talent. I was wondering if you were available to meet afterwards, maybe get an icecre-"

Roman paused focusing on the boy in front of him, "Like a date?"

The Emmett guy nodded, a little more emotionless than Roman would have pegged but oh well, "Yeah, if you're into guys."

Roman rolled his eyes, hesitating, "I… I am, but I've kinda got my eye on someone right now."

"Oh," the boy, Emmett, was a little more deadpan than Roman found comfortable, "-guess I won't intrude then."

Roman ushered around him, ignoring the nudge that something about the encounter had irked him but it didn't matter. Patton was standing just off the side, swaying lightly with his jacket hanging loosely on his interlocked hands.

He looked so… precious, waiting for one person in the whole world; and he was lucky enough for it to be him. He might need to tell him soon.

The conversation was light and airy and worth every second of it, and Roman just wished he could stay there forever.

Until, everything tumbled just a few days from such a great day. Who knew how fast things can change, huh?

◇◇◇

Roman had woken up two hours late, something about the night before had been just a little too exhausting for him.

He had to hastily toss on clothes and comb through his hair with his fingers, which was not the most elegant thing in the world. And he could hardly even look at himself because he usually held some sort of mystery. Something people irked to know about, and Roman was fueled by that.

But today, he was a mess. A mess that probably couldn't even look people in the eye, his night had been… rough.

Nightmares tore through him, the fear of rejection sizzling on his skin with his best friend lit up perfectly in an empty room: "Nobody will ever love you."

Roman flinched, lacing his shoes and jogging out the door, messaging Patton quickly to not worry about picking him up. Not like he would see it anyway, Patton was probably elsewhere right now.

Maybe he was talking to that pretty boy, with the good grades and the nice eyes; Patton deserved him.

Roman couldn't help the bitter taste in his mouth at the thought; jealousy trailing up his arms, flooding through his veins.

It was going to be a tough day.

When Roman had gotten there, it was 30 minutes before class; he had completely missed drama practice, but he could only think about one thing right now.

Well, until he heard a snicker. It was soft, echoey and originally he felt it wasn't meant for him, something he had heard in the crossfire.

But then, the shadows of whispers carried through the room… following him.

They were following him.

He watched as eyes flock to him and go back to wherever they had been looking before; something was… different.

Something, someone had done something. Roman felt… almost suffocated by all the eyes.

They… they weren't like when he performed. Not filled with wonder or hazy as they absorbed the scene, the words, the dialogue-- no.

They were looking at him, straight into his soul; piercing through his skin into a place where he thought no one could see. They weren't looking at his character, they were looking at him.

Roman was scrambling, trying to find his best friend who had suddenly disappeared that morning; because for one of the first times in his life, he was scared.

Scared of what they knew, scared of how they perceived him now.

He… he needed Patton. Yet, he was nowhere to be found.

Roman tumbled through the halls, afraid and tired and he felt like he couldn't breathe-

Until a person placed their hand on his shoulder, turning him slightly with a bittersweet smile, "I know this probably isn't how you want this to come out, but… I support you."

Roman blinked at them, his hands shaking and he could feel his whole world crumble around him within a second. It took a second, to feel hopeless without anything to protect you.

And it wasn't like he was ashamed, he just felt so… Open, those words were his own and someone had stolen them right from his mouth.

They were his words- his words- his words- his words.

The day felt like he was floating, somewhere off in a storming cloud, and the sun had been cut off: he was blind.

He was grasping onto some sort of stability, something to hold him, Patton to hold him.

Where the hell was Patton?

Roman felt most at peace in drama, Mr. Sanders had told him to just sleep for awhile. He could tell in his eyes that he was just… exhausted.

So, Roman squirmed in the seats. Thoughts churning and his face paleing, Roman felt like he had been stripped of everything he had held to keep him safe. He felt so…

Exposed.

Roman had went home that afternoon, the school nurse believed he was going to faint and that was all his Mom needed to bring him back home.

"You-" she said with a concerned glint in her eyes, "You need rest, honey. I'll try to get in touch with Patton's Mom, alright?"

Roman was exposed, hesitant and tired and his skin felt… out of place. Like it wasn't his. Like someone had taken who he was right from his fingers, like he didn't deserve that.

Patton didn't show up in the next few days, and normally that was concerning but with the state Roman had been in…

Roman was beginning to think Patton hadn't even been there if the first place.

Maybe some of those kids told him to sit there, to get closer to him, to know Roman inside out; before smashing his heart into millions of pieces.

What else did Roman deserve?

So, one night, around 8, Roman had been writing a story about two princes who had fallen from grace and in turn, each other.

There was a knock of his bedroom door, it was soft, consoling, polite. It was Patton.

Roman couldn't get up the courage to say anything, he couldn't get up the courage to even breathe. Because what if his thoughts were right?

What if Patton had never been there for Roman in the first place?

Who was he kidding, who would actually stay there for Roman. Who would willingly be some egotistical hero's friend, because that's all he was.

An egotistical jerk would couldn't even have his own coming out.

Still, with all these thoughts bubbling within his thoughts, he spoke shakily, "C-Come in."

Patton looked distraught, his face practically bleeding concern with his eyes gleaming so softly that Roman felt like maybe he wasn't a senior in high school anymore, he was just a little boy who had scraped his knee.

"Roman~" Patton hummed reaching out to him, his hands unabashedly going to touch his skin, "I'm so s-"

Roman felt sick to his stomach, guilt a tinge within him but he had been so hurt for so long, and Patton hadn't been anywhere.

"No," Roman spoke, breathy, "-no, that's not fair."

Patton scrunched his eyebrows, and it was usually so cute but today, Roman was just exhausted, "What?"

"Y-You," Roman couldn't cry, not like this, "-you weren't there, Patton. And you didn't even tell me where you were, Patton. You didn't speak a word to me."

Patton's face fell and his eyes gleamed with a little more than just concern; Roman had to bite back the guilt, he needed to speak.

Roman began, a dangerous tone of his lips, "I needed you, and you were weren't there."

Patton fell quiet, pulling his hands back to him, "I… I was busy. I don't want to tell you why. Not like this, you just gotta belie-"

Roman shook his head, smashing his hand down on a desk, "Patton, have you ever felt... naked? Like no matter what you are wearing everyone is going to see things you don't want them to? And… and you can't even... control it?"

"I-I'm sorry, Roman-" Patton's voice broke, "-I should've been there for you. I should've-"

"Then," Roman glared with the most determined glint in his eyes, not raising his voice --because at this point what's the use--, "-why didn't you?"

He could see the moment Patton cracked, the moment he faltered and all his words flooded his lips so messily and jumbled, yet so beautiful, "I was planning on how to ask you out, I… there was going to be a picnic and a sunset. Everything had to be perfect for you. Because you don't deserve anything less than that. And... I love you too much to give any less than you deserve."

Roman froze, a flame of hope slicing through him, until it set in. Patton could be apart of all of this.

He is just a part of their plan to get under his skin, to be the piece that finally got Roman to break.

And it was working.

Roman shook his head, wiping his tears, "You had me there for a second. I almost believed that maybe Patton loved me as much as I loved him, but of course not."

Patton opened his mouth, but Roman couldn't bare to his voice now, all it was that laid inside his chest was heartbreak. So, he needed to speak before he could.

"One last backstab," Roman muttered to himself, exhausted and hurt and everything in his life was falling, "-just what I needed! Because one just wasn't good enough!"

Patton reached forward, but Roman hardly noticed, too lost in his own… suffocating mind to even focus around him.

"Of course," Roman got louder, "-of course you didn’t want me. Of course you were all set up, perfect Patton would never fall for… me. Why would he? Why would anyone?"

"Roman-" Patton began, careful but not without such a broken ache behind his tone.

"-I mean I'm useless, I'm too useless to even be on stage. I can't even do things myself. I'm too afraid to admit that I want friends so bad I can hardly breathe, but nobody approaches me. Not because I'm intimidating, but because I'm not worth i-"

"Roman-" Patton egged closer his hands so close to him, yet it still went unnoticed.

"-it. Who would want a guy who's too afraid to be anything less than perfect? Who would ever want to know a guy who hardly has any confidence but acts like he does?! Who would want such a moro-"

"Me," Patton spoke, completely certain as he held Roman's face in his hands, carefully and kindly, as Patton wiped away his silent tears.

"I know-" Patton sighed, "I know this isn't the right time for this. But, you have to understand, Roman. I love you. And it's not because of that stupid guy, it's because of you."

"I just-" Patton regained himself with a deep breath, "-I love you so much. And I never meant to leave you to hurt like this."

Roman fell, his tears breaking into sobs, as he quietly whispered in the midst of such harsh tears, "Say it again."

So Patton did, he said it again.

He said it in between kisses all over his face, he said it as he wiped away the tears trailing down his cheeks, he said it as Roman mutter more insecurities, he said it to shoo them away, he said it everytime Roman needed him to.

It was silent, as Patton stared into Roman's shattered golden brown eyes; that he remembered once were so bright and sparkling.

Patton wrapped his arms around him, holding him there; maybe for a longer than needed but Roman didn't mind.

Patton was one of the only things that made him feel safe anymore, with so much left bare Roman needed him. And he loved him a lot more than he even knew.

And if it took weeks, or months, for Roman to be able to breathe again, to be able to exist again, to say that he was okay… Patton didn't mind waiting.

#royality #kinda cried during this one #ahhh #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #ts royality #ts roman #ts patton #ask requests #watchoutwriting

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mytrashylove · 6 years ago

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What’s in Lana’s bag?

thanks @mycandylavynder for tagging me!

backpack & purse

A- a simple, black backpack that she uses for literally everything. it’s her constant companion and it finds itself thrown on the floor wherever it goes. one of the straps is poorly sewn together, one of the zippers is about to break, and it’s a surprise that there are no holes that need patching yet. her owner will use it until she can no longer fix it. then she may consider buying a new one. but until the...

B- black, accordion purse. simple, goes with anything. in a way better state than it’s counterpart due to lack of use. of course, it does not carry the same weight, so items with a ( * ) beside it are the only ones that go in here.

items

1- phone* + earbuds*: lana may have many contacts, but she speaks to very few of them on a regular basis, she doesn’t have much presence on social media, and she hates listening to music on the streets/on the bus because she feels like she should be paying atention to her surroundings. however, she’d die if she doesn’t have her phone and earbuds on her at all times. why? she doesn’t know either.

2- keys* (for obvious reasons) and a keychain with a big, black pompomon it*. she keeps them close at all times, since they’re also her go-to self-defense weapon until she gets something better.

3- red and orange, faux leather wallet*. she doesn’t even pull it out that often, she feels kinda nervous when it’s out in the open. she keeps her money crumpled in her pockets.

4- hygiene products:

plenty of packs of to-go kleenex*, because she knows she already has one but what if she remembers wrong and there’s none??? better buy another one to be sure.

hand sanitizer*.

wet wipes*.

pads*, although she mostly uses a cup. but who knows when one’s period is gonna strike? well, she does, never took her by surprise... but what if???

condoms*. for herself or for her friends, doesn’t matter.

5- purple makeup bag (it looks nastier in person) + hand mirror*. although she prefers to be bare faced on her day-to-day life, lana owns plenty of makeup. she can pull off some elaborate looks when she wants to, but she’s not one to retouch (it is what it is, if it doesn’t last long then so be it), so she only carries the essentials plus some favorites:

chapstick*, lots of chapstick. her lips get chapped very easily, it doesn’t help that she feels the need to wet them or pick the skin of when they’re dry.

lip balm*, for the same reasons. yes, she has a problem.

black, waterproof mascara*, but she doesn’t wear it often because it makes her eyes itch. who knows how long she has had that thing for.

highlighter*! she’ll put it everywhere, including collarbones, shoulders and upperarm.

nude rosy lipstick* that she also uses as blush.

6- two blue pens. why two? well, what if one of them doesn’t work, huh? they’re both completely new and unused, since they’re not the ones she uses for her classes... but what if?

7- two books, one in english (Agatha Christie’s Murder On The Orient Express) and one in spanish (Julio Cortázar’s Rayuela), she started reading them ages ago but never finished. she swears she will, that she’ll use them to kill time. she never does.

8- an oversized, red flannel she put there like three months ago but never used it, so it has remained there. it might come in hand one of this days.

9- lana doesn’t smoke often, in fact, sometimes she forgets she does at all (at least when it comes to cigarettes, but that’s another story). she also prefers to roll her own cigarettes, so she keeps in tin box that came with some chocolates her parents sent her the following items:

vanilla flavored tobacco, her favorite, closely followed by cherry flavored tobacco. she doesn’t have the entire pack on her at all times tho.

a few ultra-slim cigarette filters.

rice paper, or rolling paper.

she doesn’t take the tin box with her on her purse, of course, but if she feels like she might want to smoke that night she rolls a few cigarettes beforehand & puts them in her purse just in case.

not pictured

pamphlets that have been handed to her on the street. she doesn’t have the heart to deny them or throw them while the person is still on her sight, so she puts them in her bag and then forgets about them.

tissues or candy/snacks wrappers that she meant to throw into the trash once she got to her room but never did.

movie tickets from the last time she went out with friends. she always means to start a scrapbook with little mementos from her friendship but never does. they eventually end up as page markers.

a copy of an old picture of her as a baby with her parents that she keeps in her wallet. she’ll never risk losing the original like that. she plans on getting it tattooed one day.

and that’s it! lana is someone who looks for practicality (ergo the two simple bags that are meant to fit for every occassion & every outfit), she cares about personal hygiene, but can be messy on other aspects. she’s also anxious and hates to feels like she’s not prepared for any outcome.

i tag @p3nsy @principalshermansky @infernokid @angeeluss @amrryga @idolcandy @mclfutarinotamashi & @jorgeva, i’m really curious about what all your ocs keep on their bag.

anyone else who wants to do it but hasn’t been tagged yet is free to do it as well & tag me

#my candy love #oc lana #long post

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paulasamuels · 5 years ago

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Finis

I'm tired, friends. According to my Fitbit, I've walked just over 290,000 steps since arriving in France 2 weeks ago today. Today's the first day I failed to reach the 10,000 step mark, as I spent 6 hours on a train, then another couple of hours on the Metro & RER getting to my airport hotel, where I'm settled for the evening.

Traveling as I do via public transit requires preparation, patience, persistence, confidence (even if you have to fake it), and stamina. Add a language barrier, and expect the anxiety to increase significantly. For me, the benefits far outweigh the difficulties, as many of the experiences I've documented in this blog wouldn't have happened had I been tied to the schedule of a guided tour. I know to expect, though, that there will be challenges and not everything will go smoothly. For example...

Today went something like this: up at 7:00 to shower and get dressed, then breakfast at the "Brioche Chaud" where a lady who wasn't loving her job at all served me a Nutella croissant (yum!) and some other pastry that was so-so. Then back to my room to write out a post card and grab an empty bag to take to the Monoprix to shop for train picnic food. Stop at the post office to mail the post card, but first wait 10 minutes for them to open and then try to figure out which line is the correct one, only to get stuck behind a lady who can't seem to decide which size box she needs to mail her stuff. On to the Monoprix to purchase enough food for a small army, then back to the hotel to check out. Walk 3 blocks to the train station with my backpack, purse, bulging suitcase, and bag of food, being careful not to be run over by a scooter, bicycle, tram, or vehicle. Arrive at the Gare de Nice Ville with several hundred other folks waiting for the track numbers to be posted. Train arrives but is strangely parked beyond the station, and when I go to find my car, voiture #8, there isn't one. Go to an SNCF rep on the platform..."Monsieur, je cherche la voiture huit." He makes a connecting gesture with his hands, and I understand that my half of the train, with voiture 8, will be arriving shortly and connecting to the rest of the train. Boarding at last, I get behind a large, noisy group of Asian tourists who have severely overpacked and can't seem to find room for their gigantic suitcases. That finally gets resolved, I find my seat, share a look of incredulity with the Frenchman seated next to me, fish my earbuds out of my bag, and crank up my music to block out the noise...and it's only 10:00 AM.

Six hours later, I emerge from the train at the Gare de Lyon in Paris, having already mapped out my transit strategy using my Paris Metro map before I left the train. Walk and walk until I see signs for Metro line #1, follow the signs until I find a ticket machine, make no less than 5 attempts before I successfully purchase my RER ticket that will get me to the airport. Stop at an information center to be sure: "Je vais a l'aeroport Charles Degaulle. (Hold up my newly purchased RER ticket.) C'est bon pour le Metro aussi?" Oui. Off to the turnstile, where I make the rookie mistake of pulling my bag through behind me, and it gets hopelessly stuck in the turnstile doors, where no amount of tugging or cursing will release it. Another commuter takes pity on me and puts his ticket in so the doors will release...otherwise I might still be there! Make my way through the Metro correspondence...up and down the stairs with my bags, get on line 1, which is jam packed, then transfer to line 5 at Bastille, then to RER at Gare Du Nord, where I board a North-bound train heading for the airport, terminal 2. This takes 30 minutes, and I have to stand for most of it. Arrive at the airport at last, where I begin searching for the big pink bus that's supposed to shuttle me to my airport hotel. I show 2 guards the screenshot of the email describing how to find said bus, but they don't know where it is. So I move on, eventually finding someone who points me in the right direction, and finally the bus arrives. Initially miss the stop for my hotel because the name is slightly different than expected. Realize my mistake and hop up quickly, leaving my leftover picnic food (and my treasured utensils) in my seat. Fortunately, I realize this in time to retrieve it and get off the bus with everything and walk next door to my hotel.

Dinner for tonight was at a hotel restaurant nearby. Decent omelet, salad and fries, but my stomach was a bit queasy from the anxiety of the afternoon, so I didn't finish it.

My room for tonight isn't much. The entire bathroom is one of those all-in-one-piece drop-in jobs, sort of like an RV bathroom, but probably not as nice. A bunk bed positioned over my bed could well be the source of a bump on the head should I have to get up during the night.

Off to bed now to prepare for another long day of travel tomorrow. Did I mention that I'm tired?

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echelonlab-blog · 6 years ago

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VANS 2

by: @prettymisc .

No warnings.

After being laid off two weeks ago from my job due to downsizing I wallowed in self pity as I wandered our shared home alone. Jared had called last night basically demanded that I snap out of my self inflicted isolation and join them on the road. He was right, of course, nothing was holding me to stay in LA now, “just come and be with me for a bit, I really miss you, baby” his words echoed through my head again as I could almost see his pouted lips over the phone last night.

I looked around the room, it looked like a hurricane had ransacked it in my haste to get packed for this last minute trip. I had no idea what to pack for summer time in Europe and then possibly Latin America, if I stayed out that long with him. I had been out a few times before with him and the band so I knew I had to pack light.

I remember he asked for his crocs and his black and white checked Vans (I knew better than to question any of his style picks, somehow it almost always worked for him). Going to the closet I grabbed his shoes and a couple of pairs for myself. Dropping the footwear in my bags I went to the bathroom to get the last of my personal items and decided I had packed what was hopefully all I needed.

My phone dinged alerting me that my Uber was about to arrive so I took the bags and purse and went out front to wait.

It was a quick car ride to LAX as it was midday and not many cars in the road. I checked my bags and made may way to the gate to await my flight. It would be a long trip, stopping in New York and then London before switching planes to get to Sweden. If everything went as planned I would get to Stockholm one Jared’s day off so we would actually get to spend a little time together.

The flights through New York and on ti London were uneventful. As I deboarded in London I noticed the dark clouds above me although cloudy and misting in England was often the norm the clouds had me a bit worried, or maybe it was just my mood playing up the darkness as I still felt upset over the last couple of weeks.

I stopped in a restroom to freshen up and decided to try to lighten my mood before getting to see Jared. I washed my faced and redid my make-up before heading out to find some food before the final leg of my trip.

After grabbing some tea and fruit I walked over to my departure gate only to find my flight had been delayed due to some storms along the way. Just great! I guess those clouds were telling me something after all. I dug through my purse to call Jared. Three rings later, I was surprised when he picked up. “Hey babe, how is your trip going? Shouldn’t you be boarding about now for Sweden?”, he questioned.

“Yeah, well, my flight is delayed due to storms for about an hour,” I answered cautiously. I knew Jared hated when his plans didn’t go his way. “But hopefully it will get cleared up and I will be on my way! I can’t wait to see you, J!”

“Hmm, I am glad I have to day off so I can still pick you up. Just let me know your new arrival time and the car and I will be outside waiting for you. I can’t wait to see you too, and hold you in my arms, and other stuff I can’t say since Shannon just walked in,” he replied with a chuckle, surprising me again with how upbeat he was being.

“I will text you as soon as I know for sure, see you very soon!” I hung up as he said his good byes and sat down to wait out my delay.

An hour and a half later I was finally back in the air on my way to Sweden and Jared. I out my earbuds in and turned my ipod to some music and relaxed for the rest of my trip.

***a little thing for the transportation prompt which continues from my last submission. Who knows maybe I am a writer yet.😁😎😉

#jared leto fanfiction #writing prompt #wp: PTA #prettymisc #submission

31 notes · View notes

zoemurph · 7 years ago

Text

to have a friend, chapter six: $136

on ao3 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

i was gonna hold back on posting this but im impatient. if you thought this was going to be subtle in any way you should know ive never been subtle a day in my life. please read the end notes chill thank you

warnings: depression, suicidal thoughts, small mention of blood (in the past)

enjoy!!

Connor has made a lot of mistakes in his life. Sure, everyone does, but most people aren’t as giant fuck ups as Connor is.

Right now, at the very top of his ‘what the fuck were you thinking’ list, is letting Evan Hansen fall asleep on him.

He wouldn’t have pushed Evan off of him or anything like that, he’s not a monster, but god. He regrets letting Evan stay like that for almost three hours. Curled up against him and breathing gently and looking all calm and at peace while he slept. His hair had been ridiculously soft and he smelt like pine and—

Connor covers his face with his hands.

Evan fell asleep on his shoulder almost two weeks ago and it’s literally occupied so many of Connor’s thoughts that he’s going to scream.

The universe is really fucking cruel. Of course he’d develop a painful crush on the guy that he’s paying to pretend to be his friend. Hilarious.

He’s been trying to keep it subtle. Under wraps. Don’t smile too much at Evan. Don’t laugh too much. Don’t touch him. At all. No physical contact at all whatsoever unless Evan initiates it first.

There has been a few times where Evan has looked up at Connor with a smile and Connor has actually thought he was about to combust. And then he had to go to AP Literature and pretend his heart wasn’t about to explode.

Alana Beck had given him a weird look when he walked into the room. He’d sat down and buried his face in his arms and pretended he was tired.

So yeah. Connor might have a minor crush on his fake best friend. No big deal. Shouldn’t be a big deal. He’s had crushes before and handled them fine. This shouldn’t be any different.

Except it is.

It’s different in every way. He starts every day at Evan’s locker. He eats lunch with Evan if they have the same lunch hour. He smiles at Evan in the hallway and Evan waves at him with a grin that Connor pretends isn’t fake because it hurts less. He ends his day at Evan’s locker. On Wednesdays, they go to the computer lab and print out Evan’s letter for his therapist. They plan their hang outs softly in the hallways, because Larry could still be checking Connor’s messages, even though Connor changes his password every two weeks. Connor texts Evan about anything. Random things. Random facts he finds online that Evan replies to with his own random facts.

The difference is Evan.

Evan is so many things. It’s a never ending list that Connor keeps adding to mentally because he loves to torture himself. And it hurts, because he’s so many things that Connor will never actually have in his life. He’s not sure how long he can actually keep up this fake friends thing. Purely because of the money. He’s starting to run out of his own money and has been slipping money from his mom’s purse or Larry’s wallet whenever he gets the chance, but it’s still risky.

Not that Connor won’t risk it for another few hours with Evan.

It’s kind of pathetic. It’s definitely pathetic.

But has Connor ever been anything other than pathetic?

Connor stares at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. And now he’s awake. At four in the morning on a Monday. He’s awake at four in the morning thinking about a boy with a heart stopping smile and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

Connor doesn’t actually know if he’s ever been gayer than he is in this exact moment in time.

Eventually he just gets out of bed because what’s the fucking point of lying around. A tiny part of his mind thinks ‘hey you could do homework right now’. Connor laughs at that part of his brain and grabs a sketchbook off his desk.

He actually managed to clean up some of his room. Some of his clothes are now in drawers instead of covering his floor. But he has succeeded in finding a bunch of empty sketchbooks, from back when he thought he was going to be drawing a lot more then he ended up doing.

He might have run out of purple in his watercolor palette, but at least he has about six empty sketchbooks that he can fill with garbage.

Connor puts in his headphones and sits on the floor, leaning against the edge of his bed, and draws mindlessly. He sort of lets the music inspire him, but he also just draws whatever comes to mind. He vaguely remembers someone once saying that he should draw interactions between people in his sketchbook, so he makes an attempt to not just draw a bunch of busts facing three quarters to the left.

He finds a random highlighter under his desk. He stares at it for a second before uncapping it and randomly adding neon yellow wherever he feels like it. Because it’s his sketchbook and he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

He’s still drawing when Zoe appears in his doorway.

Connor pulls out an earbud and looks up at her. “What?”

“Was just going to wake you up,” she says flatly. “Guess I don’t have to. Get your ass down to breakfast. We have to leave early today. Band.”

Connor rolls his eyes and closes his sketchbook. He tosses it on his bed. Whatever.

—«·»—

“You okay?” Evan asks when he joins Connor at the locker.

Connor shrugs. “Tired.”

“Is that all?” Evan furrows his eyebrows and there’s a crease in his forehead and Connor looks away.

“Yeah.” He is tired. He can feel his sleep schedule falling out of place, and it’s not just Evan. That’s not a good sign because then he has to reset it and that’s fucking annoying. “Here,” he says, holding out a ten. “My half for the pizza.”

There’s a second before Evan takes it. “You know I can’t eat all that pizza by myself anyway.” Connor thinks he might be trying for a light tone, but it seems forced.

Of course it’s forced. They aren’t actually friends, Evan just puts up with Connor.

Connor clenches his jaw.

Maybe the first thing on his list of mistakes should be asking Evan Hansen to be his fake friend.

—«·»—

Connor leans against Evan’s locker as he waits. Weird how much of his life revolves around Evan now. He’ll decide if that’s healthy or not later.

“Sup, dude,” Jared says, walking up to Connor.

Connor nods to him. He’s too tired to deal with Jared, but he’ll do his best. But only for Evan.

“Seen the acorn?” Jared asks.

Connor tries not to grimace. “Not since lunch.”

“Hello.” Alana joins them by the locker. The small hallway is getting crowded. “Are you waiting for Evan?”

Jared and Connor exchange a glance.

“Yeah,” Jared says. “How’d you guess?”

“This is Evan’s locker,” Alana says.

“Oh.”

“Why are we waiting for Evan?” Zoe asks.

Connor rolls his eyes. Where did she come from? “There was no ‘we’ here. It was just me.” He shoots a glare to Jared.

Jared scoffs. “You can’t hog my best friend.”

Connor raises his eyebrow. “Best friend?”

“Am I not bringing you home then?” Zoe asks, crossing her arms. “Because I don’t have rehearsal and I’m not waiting.”

“I’m good,” Connor says. “I’ll figure something out.”

Zoe makes a face. “Okay. Have fun.”

Alana turns and watches Zoe vanish into the crowd of students. “Zoe does a lot.”

“So do you,” Connor points out. “Did you need Evan?” For some reason, he doesn’t want Alana or Jared here. He wants Evan by himself. Because he’s a selfish asshole.

Alan shifts uncomfortably. “Not necessarily. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Hi,” Evan says.

Connor turns to see Evan behind him. Alana lifts a hand to wave.

“S-sorry for making you wait,” Evan apologizes.

Connor steps aside to let Evan into his locker. “It’s fine,” he promises.

Evan glances to Jared. “Wh-what’s up?”

“Just checking in on my…bud.” Jared awkwardly punches Evan in the shoulder.

Evan stares at him. “I’ll tell my mom,” he says after a moment.

“Cool cool cool chill.” Jared runs a hand over his hair. “Nice.”

Connor squints at Jared. “Are you having a stroke?”

Jared flips him off.

“How— how are you?” Evan asks Alana. “We haven’t, um, really—”

“Talked?” Alana interrupts. She shrugs. “I’m alright. Yourself?”

Evan glances to Connor. “Okay. Did you— were you just saying hi?”

Alana rocks back on her heals. “I actually had a question about student council? Or two. Either way it should only be a minute of your time!”

Evan blinks. “S-student council?”

She nods. “If you don’t mind! I actually have to run to make a poster but if you want to talk tomorrow—”

“Talk now,” Jared says, butting in. “I’ve got you, girl, I’m a master at illegal photoshop.” He points his thumb at himself. “Tell me what you need and I can get it to you in like fifteen.”

Alana eyes Jared suspiciously. “Are you sure?”

Jared scoffs. “Am I sure? Do you even know me?”

“Yes.”

Evan bites his lower lip to hold back a smile and Connor has to look away before it makes him smile.

Jared scowls. “Seriously, I’ve got you. It’s not hard, it’s some fucking text and a clipart picture. I’m not busting out inDesign or anything. Chill, talk to Evan, meet me in the computer lab when you’re done.”

Alana looks at him for a long moment before she says, “Okay. I’m trusting you.” She pulls out a notebook and quickly writes down instructions. Connor watches her write in fascination. He doesn’t pay enough attention in literature to know her handwriting and it’s a lot less neat than he thought it’d be. There’s a dramatic tilt to it and the letters loop and blur together.

Alana tears the page from her notebook and hands it to Jared. “Do what you can while I talk to Evan,” she says seriously. “Don’t send anything to print until I okay it, besides, we need the vice principal’s signature before we can start hanging these up. Don’t make this harder for me.”

Jared rolls his eyes and folds up the paper. “I get it I get it. I’m not five. See you losers. And Alana. See you in a bit.” He shoots them finger guns before turning and walking down the hallway toward the computer lab.

Alana looks at Connor.

Connor looks back.

Evan looks at Connor.

Connor gets the message.

“See you later, Ev,” Connor says.

Evan gives him a small smile. “I’ll text you.”

Connor hums as he walks away, doing a little salute to Alana as he turns.

Now what the fuck to do? He doesn’t want to go home yet and he doesn’t have a heavy enough jacket to go to the playground. It’s the last week of October and Mother Nature decided a bit of ice was needed before Halloween. The temperature keeps dipping below freezing and it’s some bullshit.

He glances back over his shoulder to see Evan and Alana at the end of the hallway. Alana is gesturing as Evan nods along. Connor’s stomach twists and bitter thoughts start to cloud his mind, but he shoves them away and focuses on the boringly beige color of the lockers. One after another. Exactly the same.

He finds his feet bringing him toward the computer lab. Even though it’s Monday, not Wednesday. Even though Jared is there. For some reason, the computer lab is the most comforting place in this dump.

That’s fucking depressing.

Connor shoulders the door open. Maybe if he sticks around in here Evan will show up with Alana. Or something.

So much of his day should not be devoted to thinking about Evan Hansen, but here he is.

Jared is sitting at one of the computers, bag on the floor and feet up on the table. He has a browser and about thirty tabs open. He chews on a pen as he types.

Jared glances up at Connor. He lowers the pen. “The fuck do you want?”

“Bored.” Connor kicks one of the chairs that’s not pushed in. “Why do you care?”

“Bored without Evan to harass?” Jared mutters.

Connor furrows his eyebrows. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“What do you think you heard?” Jared asks. “Cause it’s probably exactly that.”

Connor scoffs. “Okay. Nice one, douchebag.”

“Oh, shit, name calling!” Jared spins away from the computer and glares at Connor. “Are we name calling now? Is that what we’re doing?”

“I’m not harassing, Evan.” Connor crosses his arms. “Can’t say the same for you.”

Jared rolls his eyes. “I’ve known the guy for like twelve years, I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

Connor grits his teeth and digs his fingers into his jacket. “Do you? Do you really?”

“What?!” Jared snaps, standing up. “Do you have something you want to fucking say to me?”

Connor laughs sharply. “I have a few fucking things to say to you.”

“Go for it, bro,” Jared throws his arms out, “no one’s going to stop you!”

“Do you really think Evan is your best friend?” Connor is surprised that those are the first words out of his mouth. They taste sour and feel like acid. His insides are being eaten up by vicious venom and he’s drowning in bitterly cold thoughts.

“I’ve known him since we were five,” Jared says.

“And I’ve known Zoe since she was fucking born,” Connor snaps. “And she would be happier if I were dead so I wouldn’t hold us up as a great example for friendship. That’s not good enough.”

“Okay, okay! You think you’re Evan’s best friend?” Jared counters. “Because that’s bullshit. That’s bullshit and we both fucking know it. Because I know what this is and it’s not friendship.”

It isn’t and that hurts more than anything Jared could ever say to Connor. More than anything anyone could say to him. More than things Zoe has yelled at him, more than what Larry has spit.

More than things Connor has told himself when everything was dark and there was no way out.

Because it’s so fucking easy to pretend. To pretend that this is real and tangible and not— not what it is. Fake. A lie. A fabrication. Something that could be torn apart at any moment. It’s been two months, but it’s nothing more than a web that Connor and Evan have crafted. Nothing actually ties them together.

Connor is still lost. And Connor is still alone.

He almost chokes on his words and their bitterness. “You can’t get mad at me when all you’ve done for years is be a shitty friend,” he hisses.

“At least I’m not paying him and pretending!” Jared practically yells.

Connor digs his nails into the palm of his hand and he is so glad he and Jared are on opposite sides of the room. He has so many things he wants to yell or scream and just eject into the universe.

None of them can make it to his throat.

“Oh fuck you,” he snaps, spinning on his heel and storming toward the door. He throws them open and stalks down the hall, trying to breathe and stop the spiraling.

Before the doors shut, he can hear Jared shout, “Fuck you!”

—«·»—

It’s bitterly cold outside and Connor can’t feel his hands.

He goes to the playground. He sits on the top of the jungle gym and stares at the overgrown field. He remembers when they played bad games of soccer and tripped on the ditches in the grass. He looks at the parking lot. Old and forgotten. Cracked and run down.

There’s the pothole where Zoe dripped and fell on her face. She bit her bottom lip when she fell and cut up her face and was bleeding everywhere. Connor had been called down to the nurse’s office while the school called their mom because Zoe was hysterical. The blood was actually kind of cool (Zoe would think so too later when she wasn’t in pain) but Connor sat next to Zoe and held her hand while she cried and the nurse cleaned up the blood.

Connor sighs and pulls his knees up to his chest.

The more time he spends here — the more time he spends here when he isn’t high — the harder it is to not think of the memories. To not think of times when things weren’t constantly garbage.

Like the sewer grate a few feet away from where Zoe fell. Everyone used to say there was an alligator living down there. Everyone would gather around it and throw rocks inside, any rocks that would fit, to feed the alligator. Because a rock eating alligator living in the sewers made sense to a group of first graders.

Everything makes more sense when you’re a first grader. You say you’re going to marry someone because your friend wants to marry them and then you get in a fight because you can’t both marry the same person and you spill juice all over the place and learn how to add numbers together using shitty timed math tests.

When Connor was a first grader his biggest problem was usually what his mom packed him for snacks.

Now it’s a game of ‘is today the day I just fucking jump off a bridge or what?’

Unfortunately, jumping off a jungle gym built for seven year olds probably won’t even break his arm.

And now he’s back to Evan.

Connor wants to laugh. Or scream. Or tear his hair out. He is nothing to Evan and somehow Evan is almost everything to him and that is as fucking pathetic as he can get.

Instead he just bites down on his wrist. It doesn’t even hurt through his jacket, but it’s something to do. Something other than just—

Screaming on an abandoned playground.

People don’t typically give a shit but also someone would probably call the cops.

Jared wasn’t right but he also wasn’t wrong. And Connor wants to violently rip out the part of himself that likes Evan Hansen. The part of him that turns to mush when Evan smiles like that. The part of him that keeps cycling back to Evan’s hair, Evan’s eyes, Evan’s freckles, Evan’s voice, Evan’s laugh—

Connor wants to destroy the parts of himself that like Evan.

He would have to destroy all himself.

He bites down harder on his jacket and tries not to think. Thinking can only hurt more.

Evan gives Connor a worried look the next day. Connor meets him by his locker, just because it’s what they do. If it were up to him, he would be at home. Asleep. Or in the library. Asleep. Or reading. Or not…here. Not with Evan. With his polos and his smile and his hair and his eyes.

He got his cast off almost a week ago, but it’s still strange to see Evan with two bare arms. And for Evan to not have Connor’s name scribbled on him like some five year old got a hold of a Sharpie. Connor is both relieved and misses it.

It fucking sucks. But what doesn’t?

“You didn’t answer my texts last night,” Evan says slowly. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Connor grumbles. He lets his hair fall into his face because it means he has to see less of the world. And maybe it looks scarier or something. He wants to be left alone today. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

He’s not lying. When his body was so cold that he thought he was going to be unable to move, he climbed down from the top of the jungle gym and walked home. The heat in the house made his skin tingle as he warmed up and his mom tried to talk to him but he just shook his head and went up to his room. He pushed everything but his comforter off his bed and went to sleep. He woke up around eleven, made a quesadilla in the microwave, ate it, watched YouTube for four hours, woke up, and stumbled into the car so Zoe could drive him to school.

It hadn’t really occurred to him to check his phone. Wasn’t like he had friends or anything.

Evan chews on his lip. “Okay,” he says softly. “Just like… Um, talk to me? If you need to?”

Connor meets Evan’s eyes and his heart leaps to his throat. Evan needs to stop…all of that. Especially the concerned look in his eyes, like he cares.

Evan is a good actor.

—«·»—

They have lunch hour together on Tuesdays. Usually Connor sits with Evan.

His head won’t stop spinning.

He hides in the back of the library and tries to do the assignment for literature. He reads the same paragraph four times before he buries his face in the pages. Hot tears prickle the corner of his eyes.

Fuck.

He should’ve skipped. He should’ve stayed home. He should’ve done anything else. Other than be here. This is bad, school is bad. The only thing worth it would be Evan, but he’s avoiding Evan because his mind is awful but his mind is right.

Alana gives him a worried look when he sits down in literature. Their class only has fourteen kids, but he still sits in the back in silence unless the teacher asks him specifically a question.

Today, Connor changes his seat.

He sits in the back corner. More isolated than usual. His head hurts, probably because he forced himself not to cry because he hates crying, and his brain keeps twisting into something darker and darker.

He looks up from his arms when a book is put down on the desk next to him.

Alana doesn’t say anything. She just puts her backpack down on the floor and spreads out her pens before she opens her notebook up.

Connor watches her write in her tilted looping letters for a moment before he puts his head back down.

—«·»—

Zoe has rehearsal. Connor walks home.

He doesn’t stop at Evan’s locker. He should. He really fucking should.

If anyone talks to him he’s going to snap. He’s going to break and yell and— he can’t.

He has a plan for when he gets home. Steal a loaf of bread from the kitchen. Maybe the butter. Go up to his room. Sit in bed and eat bread. Pass out. Wake up whenever. Eat. Go back to bed. School? Whatever.

His mom isn’t in the kitchen when he unlocks the door. Good. He grabs the least offensive loaf of bread from the cabinet and a random third of a stick of butter from the last time Cynthia baked and a butter knife from the drawer. He climbs the stairs silently and goes to his room and wishes that he had a door. He pulls out his laptop and opens a random YouTube video and lets it fade into background noise as he eats bread.

Fucking life.

He’s on his third slice when the doorbell rings. Connor looks down at his bed and accepts his fate of a lifetime of crumb filled sheets. The doorbell rings again.

“Mom?” he shouts.

There’s no response and the doorbell rings again.

“We fucking get it,” Connor mutters. He puts down the knife on his desk and climbs out of bed. He takes his time getting to the front door, hoping whoever is there will just go the fuck away. He frowns when he sees Zoe in the window. She meets his eye and flips him off.

“What did you forget your keys?” Connor asks as he opens the door.

“No, dumbass, but you forgot your friend.” Zoe jerks her thumb over her shoulder toward her car. Evan is standing by the passenger side door. “Nice going, dipshit,” she mutters shouldering him roughly as she passes him to get into the house.

Connor glances over his shoulder at her before looking back to Evan.

Evan is just staring at him. He doesn’t look like he’s going to move any time soon.

Conor sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Okay. Okay.

He pulls on his shoes and shouts to Zoe that he’s leaving the door open. She just sort of yells back at him and he figures that’s enough. Then he steps outside and walks toward Evan and, probably, death.

“What’s wrong?” Evan says as soon as Connor gets close.

“Nothing is wrong,” Connor says.

Evan scowls. “I— Come on, I know you better than that by now. We’re— We’ve…” He shakes his head. “I-I thought about it. A lot. I was worried I did something wrong. I went through everything I’ve done in the past two days— the past week. A-and I had nothing. You’ve been acting— Alana came to me asking how you were because of something that happened in lit so just…” He glares at Connor. Connor’s been trying so hard to not think about his eyes. “I told you to talk to me.”

“You aren’t my therapist, Ev,” Connor mutters. “You don’t need to hear this shit.”

“I’ll tell you if I can’t handle it,” Evan says with more confidence behind his words than Connor thinks he’s heard before. “But I told you to talk to me and you— you’re just isolating yourself. That’s not going to help.”

Connor tugs a hand through his hair. “Seriously it’s just— it happens sometimes. It’s not a big deal we don’t have to make into one.”

Evan crosses his arms. “Okay. Fine. If something is wrong, just tell me that. Tell me things are shitty. That’s all you have to say, because I get it. Tell me when you aren’t okay, don’t just be a dick.”

That’s a hell of a promise to make but… “Okay.”

Evan nods and pulls his backpack on. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I just… Figured we should talk than sooner than later.”

Connor looks from the car to Evan. “Do you…need a ride home?”

“I can walk,” Evan says. “I have sch-scholarship essays waiting at home for me. I’m not in a rush.”

“You wouldn’t be bothering Zoe,” Connor says softly. “I’ll take you.”

“I thought…” Evan trails off.

“I know where my license is. Larry isn’t as good at hiding things as he thinks.” Connor turns back to the house. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Connor ducks back inside the house. “Zoe I’m stealing the car!” he shouts, grabbing her keys from the bowl by the door.

“What?!”

He goes back to Larry’s office and digs through the files in the bottom desk drawer until he pulls his license from a manila folder.

Zoe stands at the front door with her arms crossed over her chest. “What are you doing?”

“I’m driving Evan home.” Connor tries to push past her, but Zoe pushes right back.

“You aren’t allowed to drive.”

Connor holds up his license. “Get fucked.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Did you break into Dad’s office?”

“There was no breaking and I live in this house, so move and let me take Evan home.” Zoe stands her ground. ��I’m not high, Zo. And I know how to fucking drive. It’ll be fifteen minutes, the world won’t end.”

Zoe closes her eyes. “I… Just pay attention. Be safe. Don’t crash or anything.”

“Yeah yeah I’ll protect the car,” Connor mutters. “Stop being Mom.”

Zoe grimaces. “Okay. Drive him home. Whatever.” She steps to the side. “Not my fault if Dad grounds you for life.”

“Who cares.” Connor closes the front door on her. Evan looks up from his phone as the door slams shut. Connor holds up the keys. “Get in.”

“When was the last time you drove?” Evan asks, climbing into the passenger seat.

“God it’s been months.” Connor opens the door. He’s going to have to adjust the seat and mirrors and that’s going to piss Zoe off big time. “It’s probably like riding a bike or something.”

Evan nods slowly. “Okay… I think that’s reassuring?”

Connor rolls his eyes as he moves back the seat. “I’m not going to crash.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Evan says honestly as Connor buckles in and starts the car. “The biggest thing I’m worried about is you hitting a curb or forgetting the turn signal.”

“Fuck turn signals.” Connor flicks the turn signal down before he turns right out of the driveway. “Shit.”

Evan laughs.

Unlike Zoe, Connor doesn’t always listen to music when he drives. He’s perfectly fine driving in silence, even though it makes her want to scream. She hated it when he drove in silence, making it a point to always have headphones on her in case he had a day where he wanted to drive without music on.

It gives Connor time to think. Sometimes that’s harder with music on.

As they sit in almost weirdly comfortable silence, Connor glances at Evan out of the corner of his eyes. Evan is playing with the hem of his shirt and staring ahead at nothing.

Connor sighs. “I’m sorry. For today. And yesterday.”

Evan glances over to him. “…thank you. It’s…okay. I just want to know if you’re okay.”

For some reason it’s hard to swallow. Connor clears his throat. “So did you bribe Zoe into giving you a ride?”

“I-I stayed after for a little bit to talk to Alana,” Evan murmurs. “And then we passed the band room and I saw Zoe, s-so I thought…” He shrugs. “She might’ve thought it was weird but she was fine with it.”

“She wasn’t too much of an ass, right?”

“What do you mean?”

Connor adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. “You know… She didn’t ask too many questions or anything?”

Evan shifts uncomfortably. “I-I mean… She was— it was fine.”

Connor decides he’ll interrogate Zoe later. “Cool. How’s Alana?”

“Very busy,” Evan says seriously. “More student council stuff.”

“She trying to recruit you?”

“Uh…not exactly.” Connor raises his eyebrows as Evan worries his bottom lip. “She had an idea for a club she wants to start next semester and uh…wants my help with it.”

“You?” Evan winces. “Shit, no, I didn’t mean it that way,” Connor backtracks. “I just…you don’t do many extracurriculars or anything so it’s a surprise. Does she want you on the board or something?”

“Yes.” Evan coughs. “She… Yeah it’s, um, I-I don’t know if I’ll do it yet but I… Helping her start it up? I can do that. That doesn’t require much so I’m…okay with that.”

Connor nods. “Cool. I hope it’s…fun.” He ignores the twisting in his gut.

“Did Alana talk to you?” Evan asks suddenly.

Connor glances to him before looking back to the road. “No? Why?”

“Oh she just…” Evan gestures with one of his hands. “At the beginning of the school year we were talking about something and she wanted to talk to you about something and she said she was going to— I mean she had a question for you and I told her that maybe it wasn’t the best idea and, well I mean, she said she was going to ask you anyway so I just wasn’t sure if she ever did or…”

“She didn’t,” Connor says slowly. “What was the question?” He remembers Alana asking him all sorts of questions when he came back to school after his attempt. He also remembers ignoring them. He’s pretty sure there were a few times when he just walked away.

Evan goes quiet. Connor stops at a stop sign and looks both ways, pausing for longer than he usually would because drivers on this road don’t give a fuck.

“She wanted you to tell the student body your story,” Evan blurts out.

Connor is really glad they’re at a stop sign. “What?!”

Evan pulls on the collar of his shirt. “She— Um, she asked if you would be, or if I might be interested in um— Because of the stigma around mental health and suicide that maybe it would— I told her no.”

Connor closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Thank you,” he says after a moment. He opens his eyes and looks to Evan. “Seriously. I don’t… No one else needs to know that shit. My story— no one wants to hear that shit.”

“I think that was her point,” Evan says softly.

Connor meets his eyes for a second and then looks back to the road, pressing the gas. “Not my story,” he repeats. “I don’t want or need that kind of attention.”

“I know.” Evan sighs. “I was really worried that she— Alana can be, um…persistent.”

“Tell me about it,” Connor mutters. He turns into Evan’s driveway. “Here you go, Hansen.”

Evan gives him a weak smile and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Thanks. I’ll text you.”

“I’ll text you back,” Connor promises.

Evan lights up and Connor shoves his heart back into the darkness of his chest.

From: dickbag To: assface we have to talk

From: assface To: dickbag fuc k u

Connor rolls his eyes. He can’t even believe he’s trying but he is and Jared is being Jared.

From: dickbag To: assface right back at you but seriously. today

He leans against Evan’s locker, flipping his phone over in his hands as he waits for a response. He might not give a shit about Jared, but for some reason Evan does, so he’s going to try to fix this. Because that’s what a good person would do.

Connor’s lived too much of his life in the gray zone. Gray thoughts, gray clothing, gray morality— he can do one nice thing if it’ll make Evan happier.

From: assface To: dickbag y should i

From: dickbag To: assface evan

From: assface To: dickbag fuck off where??

Connor rolls his eyes.

“Hi,” Evan says, arms full of textbooks. “Band?”

Connor nods. “Yeah. Something about an audition or something? I don’t know, she wanted time in the practice rooms and I don’t have a say in anything.”

Evan gives him a crooked smile. “I don’t think being here a little early is too bad.”

Connor looks back down at his phone with a shrug.

From: dickbag To: assface computer lab evan will be there for a little bit we can talk after he leaves

From: assface To: dickbage fine but still fuk u

Connor really should’ve just blocked Jared’s number as soon as he got it.

—«·»—

“Jared!” Evan says in surprise when him and Connor walk into the computer lab. “W-what are you doing here?”

Jared looks up from the computer. “StuCo stuff for Lana. I guess this morning the council decided to change some of the info on the posters so,” he gestures to the screen, “here the fuck I am.”

“Doesn’t Alana have people for that?” Connor asks as Evan pulls out his laptop.

“Her people don’t do shit. Does this picture look bad?”

Connor squints at the screen. “It looks like bad clipart.”

“Perfect.” Jared saves the document.

“Sent,” Evan says. He shuts his laptop. “I’ll be right back.”

Connor nods to him.

Jared coughs awkwardly as Evan leaves for the printers.

When Evan comes back with his letter in his hands, he glances between Jared and Connor. “Everything…okay?”

“Super chill,” Jared confirms, clicking randomly on the poster.

“Jared is shit at choosing fonts,” Connor says.

Jared flips Connor off and Evan smiles. Win.

“I have to go,” Evan says, putting away his laptop and pulling on his backpack. “My, um, my mom is actually bringing me today so?” He gestures over his shoulder. “Yeah. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Whatever,” Jared says.

Connor glares at him before saying, “Yeah sure. I’ll text you.”

Evan bounces on his toes before he leaves the room.

Connor turns to Jared with a raised eyebrow. “Fucking smooth.”

Jared keeps his eyes on the screen. “Uh huh.”

“You’re a giant asshole, you know that, right?”

Jared pushes his glasses up his nose. “So are you.” He closes his illegal photoshop and spins to face Connor. “Here we are. Two assholes in a computer lab.”

They stare at each other for a long minute.

“You told me to be here,” Jared points out.

“Fuck, you’re right,” Connor mutters. “Okay. I’m..sorry.” Jared whistles. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not sorry I called you a dick because you are a dick. And you’re a bad friend. Like a really shitty one. But I’ll apologize for yelling.”

“That was a horrible apology,” Jared muses. “But fine. I’m sorry I said you were harassing Evan. But I still think what you’re doing is fucking…bad? I don’t know it feels bad. It’s a bad plan.”

“You told us that and still helped.”

Jared spins in the chair before standing up. “Okay, yeah. I did. But honestly I didn’t think either of you would get invested and—”

“What do you mean?” Connor interrupts.

Jared searches his face. “You know…?”

“No?”

He sighs. “I thought this shit would last like a week, okay? And now we’re getting into more long term usage instead of the eight days I had assumed.” He pauses. “You’re using him.”

“Yeah and you pretend to use him.” Connor crosses his arms. “Are we really so fucking different?”

Jared runs his hand through his hair. “Just two guys, being dicks to Evan Hansen. We should probably be better about that, huh?”

“Probably.” Connor holds out his hand to Jared. “Truce?”

Jared raises an eyebrow. “Not friends?” he asks as he shakes Connor’s hand. “Okay. Truce.”

#connor murphy #evan hansen #tree bros #convan #deh fanfic #to have a friend #my fics #ayy

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thegastricadventure · 4 years ago

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Packing!

I’m a bit anal retentive. I am very guilty of making lists upon lists upon lists and packing between 2-4 times just to ensure I have everything. It will get progressively worse as time creeps closer to my dead line or appointment. I am honestly this way about almost everything I do though.

So onto the packing section of this blog. I figure I am skipping around and missing things, but I started this a week out from my surgery so you are going to go down the hysteria bouts I go through and my thought process. This evening was the start of packing my bag.

About a week ago when I found out my insurance had approved me, so my worry level sky rocketed! I started making lists and going to various sites and looking up packing lists. I began to compare them to each other and my own changing, tweaking and removing things and adding things as needed. I needed to remember I am going to the hospital not a spa vacation. I didn’t need to bring four outfits, even more so if I was only staying one night and two days.

Was I going to bring my laptop? Could I just get away with my tablet? Do I bring a book or my switch? Do I bring work with me? Should I bring straws? Do I need this? Do I need that?

It is/was stressful! So I decided to approach this as if I’m going to a shoot of mine that has me on the ground for 26 hours. That made it a lot simpler. You bring what you are wearing the day of, something for night time and something clean and sanitary for the next day if needed.

The next thing was a bag. I didn’t need my carry on. That seemed a bit excessive. I didn’t want to bring a purse, but I guess I would if needed to. So as I have said in previous posts I am involved in Girl Scouts. This last year my daughter and myself both were part of the S’mores Club (it is an award for selling cookies and fall stuff every year). Last year’s reward was a hoodie and an overnight bag. It was the perfect size!! So I have the vessel picked and now onto clothing.

When you are going to the hospital you have to make sure everything you take with you is washed, sanitized and if you are me, put into a bag to keep germs from touching and such because I am having surgery and I am not getting an infection!! --- Okay maybe I wouldn’t go that far but I did clean my clothes and put them straight into the bag after making sure I had everything together.

So what clothing did I pack? Well it took a while, but I think I whittled it down to the base of what I feel I need.

2 Socks

1 Non-slip Socks

2 Pants/Shorts

2 Shirts

3 Underwear

1 Long Sleeve Shirt

Extra Mask

Winter Hat

Now, lets into why I ended on this list. I live in the Rockies. Well I actually live in the plains that lead to the Rockies. My surgery is taking place in the Foothills (the start of the mountains). So I had to adjust some of my list as we got 14″ of snow a few days ago. So I decided the hat and the long sleeve shirt were a must. The last thing I needed was to get sick right after getting my stomach cut on.

Non-slip socks I think speak for themselves. If I could get away with being barefoot in the hospital I totally would! However, they kind of frown on that, I learned all about that when I got my tonsils taken out and had to stay the night because of oxygen levels. The other socks are for the same reason as the long sleeve shirt, being cold blows.

I am taking one pair of pants and a pair of shorts. While I know I am not going to be with it, I do know I sleep hot. If my knee reconstruction surgery taught me anything it was I could not cool down at night. So shorts were a must and so was the pants for when I went home.

Shirts and underwear, you need to keep the stomach area clean and change things that absorb sweat and oils. Like I have stressed before you don’t need an infection at any time, let alone right after you had surgery.

So that rounded out what I packed for clothes.

Toiletries was probably the hardest for me. I have a lot of things I do everyday for my skin care and I realized I probably won’t be able to do everything. So I went back and forth over everything I wanted to bring and what I wanted to do the longest, seconded only by electronics! What can I say I love me some gadgets, but we will get to this soon!

It took a few days, but I finally got down to what I thought was the base needs for me. You don’t have to follow this if you don’t need all of it but it is what I felt I needed.

Tooth Brush

Mouth Wash

Water Pik

Tongue Scraper

Deodorant

Face Wipes

Moisturizer

Lotion

Lip Balm

Shampoo (From Hospital)

Brush

Hair Ties

Wipes

Hand Sanitizer

Body Spray

Tweezers

Nail Clippers

Whew, that seems like a lot, even writing it down a second time!

Most of this seems pretty basic right? Tooth care, brushes, shampoo and hand sanitizer. Now lets go through and look at the stuff that people will question, at least I did when I was packing it and writing things down

Face wipes, Moisturizer, Lotion and Lip Balm. These four things seem the oddest to me since I am going into a hospital but let me explain it. First, I have oily skin. I rarely break out but when I do it is under high stress environments and this is pretty stressful. Since I can’t bring my whole skincare routine I figured getting the oil off and putting on my sleep mask/moisturizer would at least be a good second. I use these on planes so why wouldn’t it work here? The Lotion and Lip Balm have two reasons and both are pretty much related. I live in the High Plains Desert, yay grasslands am I right? It’s also winter so the lack of moisture leaves your hands on the drier side sometimes, same with your lips. So instead of dealing with chapped lips or cracking finger nail beds this seems like a must have anyway. The other reason is at a hospital the air is even drier and it is very sterile. You may need it, so have it ready.

Body Spray, Wipes, Tweezers and Nail Clippers, Well, I want to smell good and if I am super sweaty I may not have the ability to take a shower so I am at least able to wipe myself down a little bit to make myself at least feel less sticky and gross. The tweezers and nail clippers are just because you never know when you could get a hang nail or need to pluck something!

I put all of these things in their own little packing bag. My daughter bought me one earlier this year for my purse (since I have almost all of these things carried in my purse at any given time) that gives a tie-dyed feel and says “Good Vibes” I figured she’d appreciate knowing that was the one I chose to bring.

We now move onto electronics. Oh be still my heart, this was enough to pull my hair out. What all do I bring?! So I made my choices and I am going to stick with them by golly!!

Tablet

Phone

Switch

Wireless Earbuds

Wired Earbuds (back ups for above)

Power Bank

Various Cords

Ext. Cord with extra outlets (and USB slots)

I’m not going to get too far into this, only because I know that everyone has their own needs, wants and desires. These are mine. I decided that I didn’t need my laptop for a night, but I also am aware that I could be stuck there for 2-4 extra days depending on things. I can live with all of this as my fix to stave off the tedium. I do however suggest if you bring wireless headphones you bring wired backups. I say this even if every day stuff, you never know when/if a battery will die, if you phone or whatever will refuse to connect. Save yourself the headache, bring a back up! The other thing, stores sell these little 3′ extension cords that had three outlets and 2 usb slots. Put it in your carry on or throw it in your school backpack. It helps so much, plus you could be someone's hero having an extra outlet for them to use.

Oh! Much like my toiletries have their own bag, all my cords have their own too. Plus little twist ties/rubber bands to keep everything together. It helps to keep things organized!!

The other things I bring don’t really fit in any of the other categories above. So let me list those as well. I have explanations for some of them but the rest are a just because reason.

Book

Mints

Oil Rollers

Lavender Oil

Tea Bags

Water Bottle

Straws

Hot Water Bottle

Throw

Pillow

Glasses

The book is there because I get really tired of staring at a screen sometimes. It is nice to have a change every now and again. Mints, well I know I can’t have them right away but I take them with me all the time. I can offer them to people if I have to. I feel weird not packing gum but at least these are enough to offset that. Oil Rollers and Lavender Oil, the oil rollers I have go on your wrist or neck. I have brought two, both are made to help relax you. The lavender oil is for the same thing, but I will probably put that on my pillow or throw to help keep me calm and such. I do have a special bag for the oils and such to go into, so they are easy to find for myself or anyone else.

The later bit of this list is a smidge easier to explain. The water bottle is because prior to the surgery I drink about 120 oz of water a day. I always have a water bottle near me, sometime I have 2-3 near me. I love my water bottle and this works for me to remember to keep sipping on water. Nothing is worse than getting dehydrated. The straws are there because I was told to bring some. It will help when you go on liquids the second day, or at least that it what my dietician said. She was also acutely aware that the nurses hate giving them to people. So why not bring my own? The tea is all peppermint tea, it is one of the few things you are allowed to drink after surgery, plus it can help with an upset stomach if you need it! I do also have a bag for the tea and the straws so I can keep them together! It makes my life easier this way.

The hot water bottle, throw and pillow are all for my comfort. I have to cover my stomach when coughing and I want to have something that is mine with me. The hot water bottle can help after moving around and when riding home in the car. I read a few other blogs that suggested it and it made sense! So that is what I am gonna do.

Glasses are well, just glasses. I don’t need them to read or to wear, I just wear them when I am working on electronics. I don’t like getting headaches and it does help to prevent that!

The must haves list is what I am required to bring with me to the hospital. It is pretty short and to the point really.

Three ring binder (with all the information & books in it)

Medication List

Spirometer

My medication list is always in my binder so that works for me, however you may not be as anal as I am and keep everything written in one place. I do suggest you do it, it makes keeping paperwork together easy!

The final list is what are you wearing to the hospital. Mine is short, sweet and to the point.

Pants

Socks

Undies

Bra

Shirt

Sneakers

Mask

Wallet

Jacket

Hat

Sun Glasses

Watch

My jacket has zipper pockets I can put my watch, glasses, mask and wallet into, I have another pocket I can put my hat into as well. It makes it simple and easy. Plus I won’t have to bring a purse with me! One last thing to keep track of

The final thing I would suggest if you are coming to/staying at the hospital alone (which is my case since COVID hit) is bring a simple luggage lock for your bag. It won’t stop anyone from possibly walking off with your bag, but it could stop them from going through it and taking anything. Password or finger print protect all your electronics if you can. Other than that have a safe day and quick recovery!

#journal entries #preparing

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alcordraws · 7 years ago

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Please Don’t Stop the Music

It’s a sickfic <3 Something I told @lowat-golden-tower I was gonna write ages ago

Bop is sure that between the bright, sticky rays of sunlight piercing through his blinds and into his eyes and Bing barging into his room, wild-eyed and panicked, door slamming shut behind him loud enough to wake the rest of the building, he should feel more awake than he does. The world is blurred around the edges though that might be due to his lack of contacts, and the light’s making his head throb, just slightly off-beat from his heart. Bop groans and Bing, who’d been pacing and rambling a mile a minute (a whole conversation that Bop had missed), stops, body going unnaturally still. He’s vaguely reminded that Bing isn’t human.

“Nah, bro, not you too”, he moans, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Wha-?” Bop croaks.

He blinks sleepily, scrunching his nose as a harsh sneeze ripples through his frame. Bing buries his face in his hands, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. When he looks up, Bop’s face is still flushed, his dark hair falling limply into his tired face, the dark circles under his eyes the only spots of color on his unnaturally pale face besides the spots of red high on his cheeks. A sharp exhale leaves him mouth.

“Mark, uh, got back from a con last night”, says Bing, “and apparently he caught something.”

Bop’s mind is slow to process the information, but Bing lets him come to his own conclusion.

Oh.

Mark is sick. His illnesses tend to, on occasion, affect his egos. Bop makes the connection as he sneezes once more into his elbow.

“How many?” Bop asks, voice thick.

Bing runs his hand through hair again, lips pursing.

“That’s the thing, there’s three sick. Three! No surprise that Trimmer got sick, everyone saw that coming, but you? And get this bro-”

Here, Bing stops his anxious pacing and plops onto the bed next to Bop and shuffles closer. His voice in conspiratorial when he speaks, oddly quiet but with unrestrained bewilderment.

“Dark got sick too.” Bing’s eyebrows have risen to meet his hairline and his glasses slip down his nose to reveal his confused golden eyes. The news is bizarre enough to pierce through the fog in Bop’s mind.

It’s… Bop hasn’t been around long enough to know when had been the last time Dark had gotten sick, but he figures it can’t have been recent. He doesn’t get much time to ponder it longer because his door’s swinging open again and Dr. Iplier’s striding inside, a surgical mask placed firmly over his mouth and nose. His eyes latch onto Bop (curled up in a cocoon of blankets, trembling, and looking terribly disheveled). Dr. Iplier supposed he could attribute the last one the early hour, but he can't ignore the rest of the symptoms.

He turns a sharp eye on Bing, narrowing his eyes and inspecting him like a child might a green on their plate.

“How’d I know you’d be here? No matter, get out”, he says, shooing Bing away with his hands. Bing scoffs in indignation.

“What? No!”

Dr. Iplier sighs, rubbing at his throbbing temples.

“He’s got something contagious, leave before you’re infected too.”

It’s obvious Dr. Iplier is running thin on patience, but Bing doesn’t want to leave his friend and pushes his luck.

“Doc, it’s fine, I’m a ‘droid. You let ‘ol Oliver stay with Trimmer!” Bing says, determined to stay. Dr. Iplier isn’t having it.

Dr. Iplier slips into the room, giving Bop a wide berth and grabbing Bing by his bicep in a surprisingly strong grip. Bing is dragged, unceremoniously, out of Bops room, his protests ignored.

“You aren’t a complete model and your virus protection isn’t fully implemented. You run just as much risk of being infected as any of the rest of us.” His tone softens, just a bit. “I don’t think Bop would appreciate you getting sick as well.”

Bing deflates, mouth pulling into a frown and though Dr. Iplier can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, he’s sure they’re fixed on Bops door.

“He’ll be fine, I promise”, Dr. Iplier assures him, tone gentle in a way reserved for Bim or the Host.

Bing nods, just slightly despondent, and shuffles away, shooting occasional glances over his shoulder until he disappears from sight. Dr. Iplier exhales, just slightly, his shoulders drooping. He turns back to Bop’s room and slowly makes his way in. Bop’s gone back to hiding under the covers, dark strands of greasy hair peeking out from beneath the dark blue blanket. He sighs again, knows he’s been doing that quite a bit and knows he’s going to be doing it for a while more. It’s not the Host on a bad day, at least.

…

Moving Bop to the new room for monitoring is not as big an ordeal as he’d feared, even with Bop so out of it. Google offers his assestace (though Dr. Iplier supposes it’s more per request of the Host and Dark than an actual need to help). They settle him into a bed in what is usually Blue's room, a sleek and minimalist space with pale blue walls and a shelf of books that Dr. Iplier knows are a mix of fantasy and whatever copies of the Host's works that Blue likes the most.

Next to it was a small, comfortable looking couch, a deep maroon that clashes slightly with the walls. Two beds had been moved in, one neat and freshly made, the other occupied by Dark, his aura squirming like a malicious shadow around him. He doesn't look at them when they enter, eyes glued to the book in his hands. He's down to a loose white shirt and though he appears unkempt (hair unruly, clothing rumpled) one could almost call it purposeful if not for the strained lines around his eyes.

Dark was not one to be accustomed to sickness.

They settle Bop into the other bed and he falls immediately into a fitful doze, curling up tight around his pillow. Once that’s done Blue leaves, and Dr. Iplier knows better than to expect him to return. He’d said he’d stay with the Host until Dark and Bop got better and then retake his room. Bim, whose symptoms Dr. Iplier found to be more severe, is in the next room over under Oliver’s watchful eyes. He hadn’t been sure about leaving Bop with Dark, but it’s not like Bop can do anything that would be of use to Dark, who, after all, is weakened by illness. Dr. Iplier doesn’t want to leave them, doesn’t feel right leaving someone as vulnerable as Bop alone with Dark, but he has little choice. The Googles are the only ones who’d be able to help keep an eye on them without succumbing to illness and only Oliver’s offered his services. He can’t force Orville, Oxnard, or Blue to help if they don’t want to, not without making them hate him.

He has to go, it’s nearly time for his appointment with the Host to change his bandage. He shoots Dark and Bop one more hesitant glance and slips out of the room, his white coat swishing silently behind him.

…

Dark isn't particularly thrilled to be roomed with Bing’s noisy friend, but he can tolerate it if he's quiet. He’d been hoping to room with Bim; there with things he wanted to try that, even with his weakened powers, could have garnered some interesting results. But of course, Bim is a bit of gamble with how unstable he is so Dark supposes he can wait until he’s returned to full strength.

Night had come oddly quick in between bouts of fitful dozes and hazy attempts to read. Bop had been silent the entire time, alternating between listening to music Bing had brought him (on a small ipod with earphones and not his obnoxious, outdated boom box, thankfully). Bop didn’t speak, barely spared him a glance and fell asleep early with his back turned to him. None of this bothered Dark of course, Bop meant nothing to him.

If anything, it was amusing.

He glances down at the book in his lap, a rather thick volume about the poor of France. The words blur in the darkness of the night, only the pale rays of the moon to illuminate the tiny words. Dark rubs his eyes and sets the book down. He settles against his pillows, suppressing a cough and grabbing a tissue to clear his running nose. Hatred burns in his veins for Mark’s awful immune system. It's one of those rare times where he actually wants to sleep and he can’t. Dark shoot a look to where Bop shivers from under his blankets in an uneasy sleep, and for one possibly insane moment, he envies him.

Dark is quick to shake it off, scoffing. Envious of a useless ego, as if.

But he’s bored and curious and reading has lost its charm. His shadows are hissing around him, little whispers that implore him for release, for something to taint, if just a little. Dark’s current project isn’t around for him to fiddle with, unfortunately… but. His eyes land on Bop again, now intrigued. Dark is no scientist, but the effect of his powers on others had alway been an interesting subject, the way they corrupted and consumed and warped those they touched nearly beyond recognition.

He has a single tendril slither away, little more than a drop of his power and hardly enough to register to anyone with the exception of the Host. And perhaps Yandere.

The tendril caresses him, hardly more than a trickle on Bop’s sweaty forehead. He snuffles, but otherwise doesn’t react. Dark glances at the clock on the wall, the hands reading 2:45. He keeps his expression neutral, but his dark eyes gleam with excitement. His has all night to experiment.

…

There’s a soft melody echoing in his ear, a solid high tune ringing behind it and a growing ache in his chest. He scrabbles at the side of his head, looking for earbuds to pull out and finds nothing, the melody quieting and the high tune rising. The ache in his chest deepens and he clutches helplessly at it, trying to rub the pain away.

He whimpers and the melody turns mocking, an echo laughing at his patheticness and the high tune stabs into his head, a spear of sharpsharp noise that drives itself in with a vengeance. The ache turns into the feeling of a knife plunging into his core and then being ripped out and jabbed back in. He opens his mouth to scream but no noise comes out and he writhes in his tangle of sheets, clawing furiously at his bare chest anything to stop the agony growing in his chest. He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood and the melody heightens, more scream than music now.

He can pick up a voice, smooth and deep, familiar in a way he can’t understand. It’s mocking him too, laughing at how powerless he is. The voice is singing, siren-sweet and so very terrible. It fills the air around him, a physical mass that chokes his lungs and invades from his mouth and nose and scratches at his skin like sandpaper. There’s tears streaming from his eyes but he can’t cry out and the voice keeps singing and laughing and it won’t stop and he can’t breathe he’s gasping but nothing comes, the noise is screeching in his ears like a train whistle-

Something in him snaps and the sound is gone. The voice disappears but the crashing waves of pain remain and he can’t hear anything why can’t he hear anything?

He want’s this to stop. He wants to be left alone. He dredges up the remnants of his strength, searches for the timbre of that awful and beautiful voice and screams.

“STOP”, he roars, voice raw and deep, deeper than he’s ever gone, an echoing reverb that does not belong to him whirling around him.

And the darkness stops.

…

Everything seems to stop.

Dark stares, wide-eyed, at the trembling, sobbing child of an ego, nothing compared to his ancient roots. He’d mimicked his voice to a tee, not just the empty husk of sound, but the power of it, the power to stop his shadows and.

He cocks his head. Bop had imitated his voice and his power.

He’s… curious, to say the least. Dark thinks of the Host, with the power to manipulate and warp and predict and Bim whose power mirrors Wilford’s in far more unpredictable ways. A sound manipulator who can mimic the power of his voice? Dark wonders if perhaps he could mimic the power of others as well.

But. Bop’s never done this before. Dark narrows his eyes and stifles a cough into his fist, thoughts awhirl. His aura swims around him, dark and foreboding. It’s possible that the stress of Dark’s powers had brought forth an ability Bop hadn’t even been aware he had, he was a new ego and quite a few of them had interesting reactions to his aura. His thoughts flicker briefly to Yan, the way he seemed to draw his aura in rather than shrink away.

In the other bed, Bop squirms, hands clasped tightly over his ears and murmuring and wheezing, interspersed with harsh coughing into his blankets. Dark wonders how long it’ll take for Dr. Iplier to come check on him.

He’d only used a little over a fraction of his power, too weakened by his obnoxious illness use more and highly doubting he’d be able to handle much more of it. Dark’s need to experiment’s been piqued though so he sends another tendril infused with his aura, pokes Bops bare chest with it (red and covered in scratches from his own blunt nails). The younger ego hisses.

“Stop”, he says again, but even though it’s still in Dark’s voice (and it manages to make his shadows flinch), it’s little more than a rasp.

Dark hums and is unable to stop another coughing fit from rattling in his lungs. He decides to pursue this at a later time when his strength is recovered and he can examine the results better. He pulls up his covers and settles in for the night.

…

Bop doesn’t look any better the next morning. Dr. Iplier eyes him critically and resists shooting Dark an accusatory look. Dark’s almost completely healed, down to little more than sniffles and the occasional sneeze. His fever’s gone and Dr. Iplier has deemed him fine to go as long as he takes it easy. Even Bim, whose illness tended to last as long as Mark’s, had improved overnight. Bop’s fever burns on and he doesn’t respond to any of his prodding, verbal or physical.

And Bing refuses to leave him alone.

He’d been furious when he found out Bop had been put in the same room as Dark, had insisted he be moved out and had come to visit as often as possible to keep an eye on things. He had also declared that Dark was the reason Bop hadn’t been able to get better. Dr. Iplier has his theories (tries not the think of the Host), but tries to convince Bing that Dark likely had nothing to do with it. He isn’t so sure when he sees the scratch marks all over Bop’s chest, he small clumps of hair that he’d pulled from his head. He doesn’t tell Bing about those.

He feels his heart stutter just slightly when he finds traces of blood in Bop’s ears.

“Did you see it?” comes a voice from the doorway and Dr. Iplier nearly jumps into the air in fright.

He turns away from his patient to find the Host in the doorway (bandages soaked and cheeks heavily streaked with crimson), mouth set in a thin, grim line. Dr. Iplier thinks back to the vague vision he’d had about Bop and music, looks to the Host’s face and to the numbers stretching infinitely above Bop’s head. News Jim hadn’t said anything about anyone dying, but Dr. Iplier knows that’s not the worst thing that could happen to an ego.

“I saw… something”, he says, Bop’s dull eyes flicking in his head.

The Host shuffles in, taking a handkerchief from his coat pocket and rubbing away the blood on his face, only to have more replace it. He crinkles his nose at it and replaces the handkerchief back into his coat pocket.

“I don’t have very long, my vision came to me last night and I can feel Dark’s aura seeking me out.”

“Was… was it bad?” Dr. Iplier asks, wincing at the flat look the Host gives him, blood dripping onto the collar of his shirt.

“You must warn him. Once Dark sets his sights on someone”, he quiets.

Dr. Iplier is sure he’s this close to slipping into third person.

“He is relentless”, Dr. Iplier finishes, eyes darting to Bop’s prone form.

The Host nods. One hand comes up to rub at his temple and Dr. Iplier offers to change his bandage again. The Host smiles, thin-lipped, but accepts. He leaves with fresh new bandages and an impending sense of dread.

Dr. Iplier runs a hand down his face, exhaustion dripping from his skin.

…

Consciousness comes to him molasses slow. He blinks his eyes open, groans at the sting of sleep that clings to them. His chest burns with a low fire that scorches at his lungs and his throat feels too thick. There’s a slight buzz in his ears and there’s a melody in his head that’s too faint for him to catch and it fades as he rubs the drowsiness from his eyes.

Bop frowns at the sheets clinging to his skin with sweat and pushes them off, ignoring the chill that raises goosebumps on his arms. Deja vu washes over him when Bing slams the door open (and he realizes now that this is not his room) and starts pacing, hands tangling in his hair.

“Bing? I, uh, where am I?” Bop asks, looking around the unfamiliar room trying to grasp who’s it is from the pale blue walls. He has a very vague memory of being moved, but too out of it to really remember much.

Bing hesitates, pausing at the foot of the bed and not looking him in the eye. Possibly. It’s hard to tell with the sunglasses.

“Um, Doc had to move you to Blue’s room with Dark while you recovered. Of course antique with legs recovered first.”

His voice holds a sort of venom when he says Dark’s name and Bop shudders at the thought of being in the same room as him. Distantly he remembers deep red eyes glancing at him from the other bed, not particularly interested. Being in Blue’s room bothers him a little less, though it does make him eye the walls suspiciously.

“Are you alright, dude? You seem kinda quiet”, Bing says, his own voice unusually soft.

“Just tired”, Bop responds, swallowing to soothe the roughness in his throat.

Bing pours water into the glass on his bedside table from a pitcher Bop hadn’t seen. He’s warned to drink it slow and can’t help the sigh of relief when the cool liquid runs down his achy throat.

“I’ll leave, then, just came to give you your spare ipod”, Bing mutters, handing over the small device from his clenched fist.

Bop smiles at him, small but thankful and his fingers linger against Bop’s hand as he takes the ipod from his palm. Bing pauses in the doorway, his mouth set in a thin line.

“Get better bro”, he says before leaving, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Bop slumps back into the bed, replacing his old ipod with the new one. The first song is a peppy one with a repetitive chorus about finding happiness within one’s self. It’s catchy and bright and it makes bop feel better. It fades, for just a second, to be replaced by a faint buzz, and comes back before he can really register it. Bop takes out one earbud and then the other, puzzled. They both look fine and he slips them back into his ears. The song goes on uninterrupted.

The next song is not quite as happy. The singer's voice is cold, a careless caress against his skin. She sings about love like she’s mocking it, warbles about cold eyes and distant smiles and while her voice is beautiful, Bop isn’t in the mood for it. He skips the song. It’s another fast one, energetic with a hint of violin, a sharp voice calling for revolution. Bop taps his fingers to the beat, humming along with the tune of the man’s whip-quick voice. He forgets about the static of the first song, too engrossed in the music filling the silence.

It returns on the tenth song.

It’s slow and calm, the singer’s delicate voice belting out a plea to be left alone by the darkness following her. It’s a jarring contrast, the melody flowing along like clear stream while the singer cries in almost agony to stop, stop leave her be and it stirs something in him, a faint memory or a what felt like a white hot metal stabbing into his ears and chest. Bop wants to change the song, but something keeps him from doing so, his thumb frozen on the skip button. And then her voice fades, static filling his ears, a deep sense of wrongness filling in his chest, something that feels like drowning. There’s a lump in his throat that he can’t clear and no he can’t breath what’s going on he thought it was a dream

The song ends.

Bop tears the earbuds away, nearly throws the ipod against the wall in an effort to get away from it. His breath comes in short and shallow, and there’s an after echo that won’t go away. He barely notices the tears tracking on his cheeks, too busy trying to control the coughing fit that hits him hard and heavy. He reaches a hand up to rub his ears and his eyes widen when they come away wet. His fingers glisten red.

“Oh”, he says. He can’t hear his voice.

…

“What did you see.”

The Host doesn’t turn away from the window, though the voice from behind (rough from recent illness) calls him to. It’s sunny outside, a contrast to the cool shadows of his library and he soaks in the warmth.

“He’ll suffer.”

He rubs more blood away from his face, relieved when it isn’t immediately replaced by more. He’d been having a lot more Bad visions recently and it was hard to keep everything from being stained. There’s a hum of acknowledgement.

“But… he would make a handy addition”, he says after a stretch of silence.

Dark’s hand lands soft and familiar on the nape of his neck, he breath cold against his ear. His shadows whisper around him, snickering little wisps that curl around his wrists like physical manacles. He imagines what Dark might take from Bop, his eyes aching with a phantom pain.

Something like pity pangs in his chest.

#markiplier #darkiplier #mark bop #the host #the author #bingiplier #dr iplier #googleplier #kat writes #no evil au

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cutiecrates · 5 years ago

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Cutie Reviews: Kawaii Box July 19

Here we are guys, the Kawaii Box I’ll be reviewing tonight. I’ve had these pictures ready since Sunday but I blame my birthday and the delivery issues for the Lucky Treat as to why it took me almost a week...

Let’s hope the next one is quicker :D

Word of the month: Ryokou - Trip

“Create the best summer vacation ever with this month’s selection of kawaii goodies!“

Happy Day Pill Organizer & Kawaii Candy Wrapper Hairclips

For a summer holiday it can come in handy to have some little necessities with you, especially if they’re really cute ones. Both items are available in other designs/colors on Blippo.com.

First up is this little pill box, featuring a ball chain you can attach to a bag or purse, or even pants or belt loops for easy access to your vitamins or essential medication. I think you could even pack other tiny items, like a handy place to hold small jewelry, ear/nose plugs, contacts (maybe), little hair accessories, etc.

I’ve gotten a few other pill box containers, but they really do come in handy. Not only can I pack the above items, but I’ve also started taking vitamins these past two years, I also have an antibiotic I’m on right now, and I try to keep ibuprofen and stomach medicines on hand for me or others. Because I have a couple it also saves me room in my bed-side table.

So yeah, I’ve been making good use of them.

-------

Hair care and accessories can also be a necessity, clips provide an easy and quick method of getting hair out of the face. They also look adorable~

These clips are made to resemble wrapped candies or sweets, with a clear resin or plastic on front decorated with various items and a painted back, along with a vibrant semi-translucent clip. The clip quality is nice with little spiked pieces to weave through the hair and securely hold it, and the charm itself isn’t loose or flimsy.

I love their original hair clips (except for those neon nightmare ribbons from a few months ago), and these are very sweet and fun. The candy theme and colorful mix of vibrant and pastels makes them perfect not only for summer, but any occasion!

Aiko Headphone Case

Next up is this adorable Aiko-chan case for... I assume earbuds? It says headphone but I don’t think they would fit in there. Anyway, it features a double-sided image and an attachable pink metal piece so that you can connect this to various items, or you could even loop something else through the strap if you wanted.

The inside is a basic black, with a half-mesh piece on one of the sides. It’s compact but you could definitely fit some decent things in here besides earbuds; like everything I listed above, a hand sanitizier, small makeup items, toothpicks or ear cleaners, mints, candy, a mini notepad or sticky note set, etc.

This is really cute, but I kinda wish the design was more... summery? Like using the one from the booklet cover, which is what they usually do.

Hello Kitty Mermaid Plushie

Now this is what I’m talking about- although... this would have been a better match for the previous months box, with the mermaid items don’t you agree?

This is from a brand or company called Nakajima, and is part of a Sanrio Characters line. It’s officially worth or costs 20 Sanrio points, and I’m pretty sure its based on the much larger Hello Kitty mermaid plushies. I’ve seen a handful of them though so this could just be another catfish in the sea ;3 She has a light pink piece of tulle on her head adorned by a glittery felt star, with the same tulle around the top of the chest, and her tail is light purple with a shimmery, glittery hot pink semi-translucent fin. By the corner of her eye are two stitched stars in matching colors.

The plush is soft in the paws, but the head is more firm, with the tail just slightly softer. She’s well made and she even has a ball chain, so I could attach her to things as well if I wanted and bring her with me~

Icy Pastel Popsicle Pen

As usual we got a fun pen, and these never fail to please when it comes to fun, cuteness, and theme matching. So this month we have a multicolored pastel popsicle-shaped piece attached to the nubbin’ of a pen lid. The pen itself is a plain, thin white tube and there is a fine tip; and as usual it’s available in a few other colors. I love popsicles too, so I made sure to add it to the other pens I enjoy using.

There isn’t really much to say about the pen quality wise, other than the fact it needs a few minutes to dry. The pen can hold a line for a long time (as in, you don’t need to force flowage) and it can dot and write very easy and smooth.

Tiny Party Sparkly Stickers

As usual we also get adorable stickers, and this month we have a set of adorable, glittery, pastel items perfect for not only a fun party during summer or a get-together with friends, but also add a sweet touch to various items- like letters, notes, photo albums, picture frames, etc.

The stickers are “barely puffy“ to give them a 3D look, and what I think is adorable is on the upper corner, where it lists this:

Calories: ???

Enjoyment: 110%

Happiness: 100%

I really like all of the stickers but I think my most favorite are the candy containers, the unicorn cupcake or ice cream, and the jelly desserts.

Happy Nikukyu Polar Bear Gummies

We’ve gotten gummies like these before from Kawaii Box, and in a few other boxes, but usually they are cat or dog themed. To cool down from the warm summer weather, we’re invited to enjoy these chilling polar bear paw gummies, which as you can see are filled with a creamy gel. The bag is re-sealable and the entire bag is 102 calories- which I don’t really think is too bad. If you ate the whole bag it’d be a nice little snack.

I usually like these gummies, and they’ve never been filled before so this was a fun change. I also love soda flavors, and these are very yummy. The cooling effect lasts for a few minutes and is very soothing, it isn’t harsh or minty at all.

Korean DIY Kawaii Bracelet Set

Fun for a rainy day or just a bout of boredom or some time to yourself, we have this cute and colorful jewelry set. It consists of several colorful charms in various shapes and sizes, and it has a long bundled up stretchy string.

I pulled out the more “random charms“ to show you guys, and there was several that I only had one of, like that heart, the flower, the big, that big rose. I had multiple of the heels, but I thought they were so random and cute I couldn’t help but include them. I also noticed a lot of spare little bits of plastic I can’t do anything with, and there was one or two pieces with extra plastic I’ll need to remove before use.

However... I actually kind of like how they look in the little jar, I’m a bit hesitant about using them. I might just leave them as is. But I’ll probably use a couple pieces.

Korean DIY Kawaii Cupcake Set

I’ve done a couple of kits like this before, they’re a lot of fun and I love to see how different they are between each one. I do wish we could have a little more variety kit wise, but because they differ it’s not that bad. Plus there are color variations so you can have a lot of fun making these, then re-using them for re-ment or dolls, or just cutesy displays later.

So as you can see we have two frostings, along with 3 cupcake liners and 3 glasses, and four bottles of deco bits: Styrofoam balls, glittery green stars, fruits and random other canes, and various glittery bits.

Here are 3 I did, including 1 cupcake and 2 drinks. I’ve gone ahead and did another cupcake sometime after this pic, but I still have 2 pieces left over and a little bit of the “frosting“, which is a lot like glue in terms of consistency and feel. When you finish, it has a smooth and puffy texture, but it hardens over time and loses the squishiness.

I believe there would be enough to finish the last 2 pieces, but I’m unsure. The cupcake isn’t entirely frosting, I used spare bits to fill the bottom, a squirt of blue frosting, then filled it in white.

It’s very fun, but I will warn you, from the experience I’ve had with these types of things you definitely want tweezers to use. It will make the job loads easier and less-messy.

♥ Cutie Ranking ♥

Content - 5 out of 5: The items are well-made and really sweet, I like them all.

Theme - 2.5 out of 5: I felt like this could have been a lot better, I want to say at least half of the box was summery vacation themed

Total Rank: 8 out of 10 Cuties. I liked the items a lot, but I didn’t feel excited or super-thrilled with the box either. It was just good, not great or fantastic though, but you can’t please everyone and I still really liked it. The items are cute and colorful, and fun and practical. I can’t help but wonder what Augusts’ box will be like though, since both this one and the June one are both falling short on summer expectations. We’ll just have to wait to find out!

♥Cutie Scale ♥

1. Polar Bear Paw Gummies - These were delicious, I’d recommend them if you ever see them

2. Kawaii Hairclips - As I said above, I love the unique hair accessories we get from Blippo/Kawaii Box, I especially love these ones inspired by food items :3 I’ve worn them a couple of times and I really, really like them.

3. Popsicle Pen - It’s so cute, I just wish the pens tube wasn’t so plain. It’s a little boring, but I can understand the design choice.

4. Sparkly Stickers - I probably won’t use these because of how much I like them. Unless I just find the perfect place for them that is~

5. Pill Organizer - It’s very fun and I love the use of black as a pop of color to the soft pastels. It’s been easy to use and it came in handy freeing up space.

6. Hello Kitty Mermaid - It’s very cute and I’m obsessed with Hello Kitty, I don’t have a mermaid hello kitty, unless you count the large dress-up hello kitty doll I have, who was mermaid themed when I bought her.

7. DIY Bracelet Kit - Same as below, but I’m less-likely to actually touch it right now. I love looking at all the pieces~

8. DIY Cupcake Set - It’s very cute and fun, and relaxing too. But I’ve been there done that.

9. Aiko Case - It’s very cute and small, I won’t be using them for earbuds or headphones but I know I can find a use for it in my bed-side table or purse. I still wish they used the design from the front though...

#cutie reviews #kawaiibox #hello kitty #happy nikukyu

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addictedtofiction03 · 7 years ago

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In too Deep: Chapter One

Hello again, it is just me and muse! I seriously have the writing juice in my veins and my earbud in my ears with music blasting...what a writing environment!

Recap: Last chapter a bit of an intro to our two character and a bit of their past now we have to bring it all together and have them meet.

Enough of my babbling, I sure do like to talk. Let get started shall we!

Two weeks later

“Ugh!!!!”

Sakura Kinomoto cried out as she hurried out of the bathroom with a toothbrush jammed in her mouth as she tried to get to out of the door. She should have already been out the door, but she went to feed the cats their breakfast and ending up with a mad dash to the toilet where her morning sickness took over. She grabbed her camera bag along with her press passes as she would need them to get to the hotel where she was supposed be at 10 minutes ago. She ran back into the bathroom spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing her mouth out the best she could to get rid of an evidence of her being sick. She did a quick glance of herself in the mirror to make sure her outfit, a pink sleeveless shirt with white stripe around her middle with a black skirt the fell to his mid thigh complete with black ballet shoes, of her choice was find and had not been another victim of her morning sickness. She looked over at her hamper which was almost spilling over with clothes, she needed to laundry but when she got home from her job she barely had enough energy to move.

She wiped under her eyes to rid of any running mascara and reapplied some more to make herself look refreshed. She glanced down to her wrist at the time and groan as she quickly hurried out of the bathroom throwing her camera bag over her shoulder along with her passes and bid goodbye to her kitties before hurrying out the door. She had made it to the elevator before her phone started ringing, she moved the stuff around in her hands so she could fish it out of her purse swiping at the answer button and held it to her ear.

“Hello,” she breathed as she stepped into the elevator smiling politely at the ones already on their way down.

“Sakura, where are you?” asked the worried voice of her best friend, Tomoyo Daidouji. “You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.”

“I know! I know!” She cried out making the others in the elevator jump out her loud outburst. “I am on my way there, I just had a little bit of a set back this morning.”

“Did you get sick again?” asked Tomoyo with more concern lacing her smooth voice.

“Yes,” she sighed not wanting to think about it. “I was fine until I opened the damn cat food.”

“Are you sure that is normal?” asked her best friend, the only one in the world who knew about her pregnancy because she had called her the next morning after she had taken the test crying her eyes out.

(flashback)

Sakura sat up in her bed as she watched the numbers on her bedside table change until in was decent time to reach over to her cell phone and pressed the number 2 button calling the only person she knew that would help her.

“Hello?”

“Tomoyo,” said Sakura weakly into the phone.

“Sakura? What’s the matter?” asked Tomoyo as alarm entered her voice.

“Tomoyo I-I,” she cried as more tears began to thicken her voice. She couldn’t get the words to come out. She heard Tomoyo end the call as she buried her face into her hands as her sobs filled her bedroom.

Twenty minutes later, Sakura laid on her bed in fetal position when she heard her front door open and the patter of feet on her her hardwood floor before Tomoyo appeared at her bedroom door.

“Sakura!” She rushed to her side sitting down on edge of the bed. “What happened? Was it that asshole again?”

“No,” said Sakura, her voice hoarse from crying so hard as she got up and walked into the bathroom to come back seconds later holding up the test. “It’s positive.”

“Oh Sakura,” said Tomoyo as she got up from her seat on the bed and wrapped her arms around the young girl’s frame pulling her close.

“What am I going to do?” cried Sakura. “I don’t know how I am going to raise a baby? I have no family, no money, no house, no nothing.”

“Shh,” said Tomoyo as she brushed on the auburn locks of hair on her head. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t know how,” said Sakura. “I failed my family! If they were alive they would be so ashamed of me.”

“I doubt that,” said Tomoyo in a small voice. “They would never be disappointed in you you know that.”

“I wish my mom was here,” Sakura sobbed. “She would know what to do.”

“Come sit down,” said Tomoyo as she pushed Sakura to the bed and ran to get her a glass of water before going back to her side. “Here drink this.”

“Thanks,” she smiled gratefully as she took a quick swig of the liquid loving the way the feel of the cool water slid down her stomach.

“What are you going to do?” asked Tomoyo.

“I can’t even bring myself to think about having an abortion nor can I imagine someone else raising my child,” said Sakura softly. “So I will be keeping it.”

“Okay,” said Tomoyo nodding as she took Sakura’s hand in to hers. “I will be here to help you no matter what okay?”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Tomoyo smiled.

(End of Flashback)

“From what the doctor said,” said Sakura as the elevator bell sounded notifying that they were on the bottom floor.

“I should have gone with you,” said Tomoyo with guilt lacing her voice.

“Nonsense,” said Sakura. “You had to work and besides I am a big girl and can handle one doctor’s appointment without you.”

“I know,” said Tomoyo chuckling before letting out a groan as big annoyed masculine voice sounded in the background.

“When can we get this over with?!”

“Who was that?” asked Sakura as she walked down the stairs hurrying to the right in the direction of the hotel.

“The object of your photo shoot.” said Tomoyo. “You better hurry up because he is not happy.”

“Great,” groaned Sakura as she came to a traffic light where she had to wait to cross. “I will be there in five.”

“This getting ridiculous,” Syaoran Li ground as he paced the floor waiting for this event to be over with. “If this goes on any longer I will have leave with out this picture being done.”

“I am so sorry,” bowed the girl with purple hair. “The photographer will be here soon. She just got held up with something.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago ma’am,” said Meiling as she held an open planner in her arms where she sat at a table with several things laid out in front of her.

“I know,” she nodded. “But I just spoke to her personally and she is on her way. I am so so sorry.”

“Hmm,” Syaoran crossed his arms as his patience was running thin and he needed a dose of caffeine and soon.

“Tomoyo!”

The occupants in the room turned at the sound of a loud feminine voice entered the room and soon her figure came into sight. She was breathing rather heavily as she bent over to catch her breath.

“I am,” she huffed with vigor. “So so sorry.” She straightened herself up turning to the girl who had come to her side.

“Are you okay?” She asked worriedly as she looked over the new female.

“Yeah,” she nodded as she pulled the camera bag from around her neck. “I am just so embarrassed. I hate being late.”

This girl what photographer? Syaoran wanted to laugh but withheld from it. She did not look like no photographer, just some girl lost on her way to wonderland. “Let’s get to work and send these poor folks on their merry way.” She said and he couldn’t agree more.

“I agree,” said Syaoran annoyance lacing every inch of his voice. The bite of his voice made the small girl jump in her place as she realized they were not they only ones in the room. So much like the rest of the world, thinking they are they only ones the world revolves around.

“I am so sorry,” she said as she made his way over to him. “I am so rude. My name is Sakura Kinomoto and I will be taking your picture today.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “I should have brought everyone a coffee for it being so early this morning.”

Syaoran raised an eyebrow at the comment as he was not expecting such a generous offer, but reached out clasping his fingers around her small hand. He was also not expecting the softness of her skin registering in his brain. He fought back thought. “I am Syaoran Li and next please don’t be so late as I have other important things to take care of through my day. I almost had to cancel this because of you.”

“Oh,” she said looking down as her face flushed pink jerking back her hand from his grasp and he almost could say he missed it, but he wouldn’t. “I understand, so let get this over with.” She said softly and pointed over to the background that had been set up the day before.

Sakura let out a deep breath as guilt flooded her body entirely as she walked over the back drop. She began to arrange a few of the props as she tested out several poses for him in her mind. She could feel his eyes on the back of her neck and made her want to run for cover, but she was not going to let him win. She had a job to do and she was going to get it done.

“Alright, Mr. Li,” she said pointing to the middle of the two blocks. “Come stand here.”

“Call me Syaoran please,” he tossed in to the air.

“Fine,” She said before returning her point back to where is was. “Syaoran, come and stand here. Is that better?”

“Much.”

Surprisingly, he did as she asked without any more words of complaint. She climbed up on to the block where checked the position of her lighting to be sure they didn’t any kind of adjustment. She then turned to her subject who was watching her intently as the scowl had not left his face. “That is good right there.”

Sakura carefully stepped down off the block and hurried to her bag where she picked up her camera and held it up to her face as she played around with the focus. “One two three!” She snapped three pictures in this position before walking back over to him when she got a whiff of his cologne making her stop in her tracks closing her eyes as her stomach jerked violently and she thought she was going to lose it right there.

“I don’t have all day,” said Syaoran tapping his foot and Sakura had to bite back a smart remark as she took several deep breaths before continue her trek over to him, but made sure to stand about a foot away from him.

“I want you to turn around and crouch,” she explained and showed up what she meant. “Then I want you to turn head as if you were looking back.”

“Easy enough,” he said and did as she asked and turned his head. She pursed her lips together as if she was in deep thought before making her way over to him, but something about seemed off as if she was trying to keep some distance between the two of them.

“You know what,” she said as she walked backwards to the corner where she raised her camera up and took several shots. She pulled her camera way to study the stills.

“Now I want you to relax your face for the next few shots,” she instructed him. “I mean get rid of the scowl completely because I am afraid if you keep it you are going to have wrinkles around your mouth by the age of thirty.”

Syaoran could hear Meiling’s hacking laugh from her position in the room as he fought to bite back a remark and a grin of his own. He was used to be people being on eggshells around him, but being straight up honest wit him. “Do you know who I am?”

“Not really,” She admitted and Syaoran felt his jaw drop opened because it was not something he heard everyday in his line of profession.

“Like seriously?” He asked shocked. “Most of the people would be burning down my door just for a picture with me.”

“All I know is that you are some big singer in this part of the world,” She said as she took a few more shots before turning her eyes back on to him and boy were they a shockingly shade of green he had never seen before. “But that was because of the info I got from the packet at work. I never really keep up with celebrity news as I don’t find it all the interesting.”

“You must live under a rock,” he grumbled. But he found it refreshing that she was not jumping over him like some crazed fan like other people have in the past. Anything to get something from him like he owe them everything he had to offer.

“Not at all, just busy.” She said as if it was nothing.

Thirty minutes later, Sakura took the last shot of the shoot before turning to him. “I think we have enough for today so you can put your shirt back on.” She walked over to her things where she began to pack up her things before heading back to the office so she could start touching these up with effects. Nothing to dramatic, just clearing of the eyes or anything that was blurred in any. She never did not like shopping up her photos.

“So I will get these to the office and when I get them ready you can come and pick out the one you would like for the cover,” Sakura said as he came over to her. “It will take about week or so.”

“What do we have next week?” asked Syaoran turning to Meiling who had her date planner opened.

“The only day you have free next week is Wednesday,” she answered.

“That will work,” said Sakura nodding smiling. “Say Noon?”

“I’ll do and please don’t be late,” said Syaoran. “Or I will be making a complaint to your boss understood?”

“I promise I will not be late,” She said bowing respectfully, her stomach protesting the movement again. She was beginning to get very annoyed with it as she almost lost her guts twice in front of him during the shoot.

“Syaoran we need to get going as you have an appointment with the head of your label to talk about things,” said Meiling carefully picking her choice of words while they were around other people.

“Right,” he nodded curtly before turning to Tomoyo who was waiting patiently for him to finish. “Tomoyo, I will be in touch to go over those questions again for your article and then we can decide which are gold and which are not.”

“Absolutely,” She nodded and turned to Meiling. “Thank you for coming out here today. It really means a lot. How about I walk you out?”

“That would lovely,” said Meiling smiling nodding her head. “We need to talk about that lunch date.”

“Oooh,” said Tomoyo with interest turning to Sakura. “Would you like to come?”

“Uh,” Sakura blushed as she hated being put on the spot. “That is not my kind of scene.”

“Aww c’mon,” said Tomoyo shaking her head. “It would be fun.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” said Sakura still feeling uncomfortable looking down to the ground.

“You won’t be intruding,” said Tomoyo amused. “You need to get out of your apartment more.”

“I’ll pass,” said Sakura passing a stern look as she pulled her bags over her shoulder.

“I won’t give up on this,” said Tomoyo as her stubborn streak started to show as she began to walk out with Meiling to the hall to the elevators with Sakura and Syaoran following close behind. She made sure to keep enough distance from him as she could as she got another tiny whiff of his scent. Sakura slowed down her pace not wanting to get in another conversation about going to lunch. Tomoyo was always asking her to come along with her when she had a lunch date, but she would always refused. She liked being in behind the scenes, not in them as her family would always says it was never her spot so that is where she stayed and was her comfort zone.

When she got to the elevator she saw that the life was completely full of people so she decided to take the next available one. “I’ll get the next one,” She told Tomoyo who nodded before returning to her conversation with Meiling which made Sakura smile seeing her friend happy and laughing. She had really been a lifesaver since she found out that she was expecting, helping with finding a doctor, and looking up anything if a new symptom popped up. She backed up as the doors closed as she waited.

“Here,” said a voice from behind causing her to jump in her place causing her to turn. It was Syaoran Li, who was wearing a hoodie with the hood over his head with a scarf covering his mouth all you could see was his amber burning eyes, standing inside an empty life holding the door open.

“I’ll just wait for the next one,” She said pointing to the one next to her that was two floors up.

“That is just crazy,” said Syaoran chuckling slightly. “Just get in the damn elevator. What is the worst that can happen?”

Sakura sighed as she was getting tired of waiting for one that seemed to have gotten lost. Feeling her resolve slowly break down as she turned and crossed the threshold making sure to have a safe distance from the man besides here.

“See,” He grinned her way. “Good girl.”

“Pfff,” Sakura scoffed. “You say that like I am five.” She crossed her arms tightly around her middle wanting to close herself off.

“You are a stubborn one aren’t you?” He noted as he leaned up against the wall as the elevator started its descend and frowned when he didn’t received an answer as she looked everywhere but at him. She also looked like she was trying to melt away unnoticed.

She didn’t get the chance to answer as an ominous rumbling began to fill the air the ground beneath her feet began to shake violently.

–

hehehehehe! I feel evil cutting the chapter off like this, but so fun!

Thank you for everyone for reading. Stay tune Chapter two will not be far behind

Check out In too Deep on Fanfiction.net

See ya!!!

#cardcaptor sakura #Sakura and Syaoran #sakura kinomoto #fanfiction.net #FFN

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stresser · 7 years ago

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i’m bored so i did this

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? cereal then milk. 2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? i’m indifferent to the feeling. 3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? toilet paper or tissues lmao, and sometimes i dog-ear the pages. 4: how do you take your coffee/tea? coffee with french vanilla creamer, tea with sugar. 5: are you self-conscious of your smile? eh. 6: do you keep plants? i have fake plants. 7: do you name your plants? no. 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? hmm, writing. 9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? yep. 10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? side. 11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? friends? 12: what's your favorite planet? eris, which is a dwarf planet. 13: what's something that made you smile today? playing the sims 3 pets. 14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? hardwood or concrete floors, eggshell-white walls decorated with minimalist-abstract art, open-concept living space, plants everywhere, white cabinets with wooden countertops in the kitchen, wooden beams on the ceiling, tall windows that look out onto the city. 15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! Neutron stars can spin at a rate of 600 rotations per second 16: what's your favorite pasta dish? fettuccine alfredo. 17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? right now it’s medium brown. i used to have it pink, and i’d like to switch back if it weren’t so much money and upkeep. 18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. umm... 19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? i don’t keep a journal. 20: what's your favorite eye color? brown or hazel. 21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. like a purse? i bought a michael kors purse (beige, over-the-shoulder, $150) almost three years ago that i still have and carry everywhere. it’s my only purse. 22: are you a morning person? ahha... no. 23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? sleep, play video games, bake, and write. 24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? yes. 25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? my own home. 26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? my mom’s old flipflops (used to be white, cheap, squeaky, always slip off my feet while i walk), which have somehow become mine. they’re super easy to put on when i’m in a hurry to go somewhere that doesn’t require a lot of walking. 27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? isn’t bubblegum a flavor? my favorite gum flavor is spearmint. 28: sunrise or sunset? sunset. 29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? it’s really cute how my friends don’t exist. 30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? yes 31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. i always lose and mismatch socks, so i typically only wear cheap white ones from wal mart. i steal my boyfriend’s socks a lot because i keep losing my own. i don’t know where they go. i also don’t have the money to just buy socks all the time, so if i bought some really cute patterned ones, i could see myself getting upset if i lost them (especially if they were expensive, like Nike, which like... how can people just have and afford Nike socks??) anyway, i can’t sleep with socks on. if i end up falling asleep without taking them off, they somehow come off in my sleep. 32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. it seems you’re under the impression that i have an extraordinarily active social life. 33: what's your fave pastry? baguettes 34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? i had a teddy bear named beary that my dog tore up when i was nine. 35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? i’m obsessed with stationary. i don’t use them i just like to look at them and organize them. 36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? whichever one sounds like an eternal groan. 37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? i like a clean room, but sometimes i’m too lazy to clean it. 38: tell us about your pet peeves! people who are unnecessarily loud (especially in the mornings), slow walkers, people who get to skip the entire line because their friends are at the front, people who talk shit about somebody but the next day are practically arm-and-arm with the person they’d just talked shit about, people who listen to their music on speakers rather than on earbuds/headphones (see above: “unnecessarily loud”), when you’re trying to spend time with someone and they’re looking at their phone the entire time, people who dislike something just because it’s “mainstream” and they want to be an asshole, children screaming and acting like demons in public. 39: what color do you wear the most? gray or black. 40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? i barely have any jewelry and what little jewelry i do have is from h&m and costs like six bucks. 41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? i don’t read a lot but i remember reading jellicoe road for summer reading in tenth grade, and i was really surprised because it was actually quite good. 42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! the best coffee shop i’ve ever been to is intellegiencia in downtown chicago. 43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? my boyfriend, probably? i don’t remember. 44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? umm??? 45: do you trust your instincts a lot? yes. 46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. not a pun: i used to like puns but people are overusing them to an extreme so now i can’t fucking stand them lol. 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? sprouts. they’re like the pubes of nature. 48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? the dark, and although i’m still perpetually afraid of the dark, i have a bigger fear of heights. 49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? no, not really. the last cd i bought was probably when i was nine. 50: what's an odd thing you collect? stress. 51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? can’t think of anything. 52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? “sometimes things that are expensive..... are worse.” 53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? i’ve watched heathers and beetlejuice in their entirety. i like them both but i have to be in a certain type of mood for them because they’re also a little weird. i’ve only seen the first part of pulp fiction because for some reason i keep falling asleep in that movie, lol. 54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? uhh?? 55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? i can’t think of anything right now but i don’t doubt that i’ve done something dramatic to prove a point. 56: what are some things you find endearing in people? i like when people are comfortable to be themselves and talk about themselves. i like being around people who don’t judge others. 57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? i’m sorry but i’m not listening to that song rn lol. 58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? i’m both 59: what's your favorite myth? the only one i can think of is from greek mythology where this man was transformed into a woman and then back into a man and then zeus and hera asked him/her which gender enjoyed sex more and the man/woman/man said the woman enjoyed it more so hera cursed him. lmfao it’s so obvious that a man wrote this myth, isn’t it? 60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? poetry is meh. 61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? i just gave my boyfriend a chess set except the chess pieces are shot glasses for his twenty-first birthday. the stupidest gift i’ve ever received... uhh, idk. 62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? no. 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? leave them be. 64: what color is the sky where you are right now? dark. it’s... holy shit it’s 5am. 65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? my grandma. 66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? nonexistent. 67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? depends where i am. inside: i’m okay. outside, walking to class: gloomy, irritable, and tired. 68: what's winter like where you live? like summer. 69: what are your favorite board games? life, probably, because it doesn’t take too long. 70: have you ever used a ouija board? no. 71: what's your favorite kind of tea? sweet. 72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? for the most part, yeah. 73: what are some of your worst habits? biting my nails, eating too many carbs, not texting people back and isolating myself. 74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. how ‘bout this: no. 75: tell us about your pets! i have a palomino bunny who is a little over one year old and his name is bean. he’s very sociable but he sheds so much. i bought him from a rescue center three hours away last year. i also have a gray and white kitten who is three or four months old and her name is matilda. she’s very floppy and hyper. my mom found her in her backyard in the middle of the night and i decided to just keep her. 76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? sleeping! 77: pink or yellow lemonade? pink. 78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? hateclub! 79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? i once pointed to this really expensive perfume in sephora and said it was my favorite scent but i’ve never owned it before. my boyfriend went back and bought it and gifted it to me for our anniversary. 80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? beige, and no, i didn’t choose them; my landlord did, i guess. 81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. my boyfriend’s eyes: they’re like two hot cups of tea, swimming with honey and sugar, set beneath the window of a bright yet chilly morning. 82: are/were you good in school? i used to be good in high school but i’m hopeless in college. 83: what's some of your favorite album art? ??? 84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? i used to think that i wanted tattoos but then i realized how much it cost to get one. 85: do you read comics? what are your faves? no 86: do you like concept albums? which ones? no? i think? 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? star wars (episodes iv-vi), titanic, the princess bride, batman: the dark knight. 88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? not really. 89: are you close to your parents? not really. 90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. i haven’t been to very many places but i loved fort myers, florida. there seemed to be so much to do around that area, and it was warm even in december. 91: where do you plan on traveling this year? playa del carmen, mexico. 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? drowns pasta in cheese. 93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? “oops i forgot to brush my hair this morning after i got out of the shower and it’s still wet” 94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? my bf 95: what are your plans for this weekend? go grocery shopping 96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? procrastinate 97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? istp, gemini, slytherin 98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? about three months ago my family and i tried to hike up a mountain in june, but the trail was over three miles long so many of us quit halfway and headed back to the cars. 99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. n/a 100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? the past, because i want to enjoy being a kid again

#personal #me #september 10 2017

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